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I 


■? 
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I 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microraproductions  /  Institut  canadien  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


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I      I   Covers  damaged  / 


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!     t  includes  supplementary  material  / 

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■nKVF.'.  ■"«w»''':4aL-  I  jt^^m  <i» 


■■Tr.r^-^p';  ■» 


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derni4r*  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
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originaux  sont  film**  en  commen9ant  par  la 
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d'jmpression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  d*s  symbol**  suivants  ipparaitra  sur  la 
derniire  imaga  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — ^  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbol*  V  signifi*  "FIN". 

L*s  cartes,  planchas,  tableaux,  etc..  p.uvent  etre 
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Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  «tre 
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de  Tangle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  i  droite, 
et  d*  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  I*  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m^thode. 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

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:  %Sr*<'  4a.  V-^'^t^rr^sMBCTFIIEaf 


MICROCOfY   RESOLUTION   TEST   CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0 


I.I 


1^ 

15.0 


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2.8 


1^ 


2.5 


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A  /APPLIED  IN/MGE     Ir 

^^  1653   East   Main   Street 

S^S  Rochester,    New   York         14609       USA 

'-^  (716)   *82  -  0300  -  Phone 

^S  (716)   288- 5989  -Fax 


Bird  World 


A  BIRD   BOOK   FOR  CHILDREN 


BY 


J.  H.  STICKNEY 

ASSIiiTKD   BV 

RALPH    HOFFMANN 


BOSTON    U  S.A. 
GINN  &  COMPANY,   PUBLISHERS 

Cbe  Stbnuram  |)rest 
1902 


I 


iP^mp 


CorvHir.HT,  i8q8 
By  GINN  &  COMPANY 


ALL  RIGHTS   RESKHVBD 


■« 


TO   ITS   PUBLISHERS  AMU   BSPECIALLV  TO 

Ar.  5u0tin  W.  Smttb 

VNtJER   WHOSE   AUSPICES  IT   WAS  BEGUN 

AND  TO  WHOSE   KINDNESS  AND  COUNSEL  I   OWE  SO  MUCH 

THIS  LITTLE   BOOK   IS  DEDICATED 

AS  A  TOKEN   OF  GRATITUDE  AND   REGARD 


^mm. 


P  K  K  F  A  C  E. 


TT  may  be  of  interest  to  some  of  our  readers  to  know  under 
what  guidance  ihey  are  to  make  this  little  journey  i  to  the 
f^orders  of  Bird  World. 

First,  then,  the  plan  and  direction  come  from  the  author 
of  some  books  they  have  known  as  the  Stick'-ey  Readers.  It 
may  be  thought  worth  while  to  ventuic  on  this  new  pleasure 
trip  under  the  same  leadership. 

Second,   a  gentleman   has   been   found   to  act  as   special 

inductor,  —  one  who  has  lived  closer  to  Bird  World  than  any 
us.  For  years  he  has  known  by  sight  and  sound  all  our 
New  England  birds,  and  many,  if  not  most,  of  our  chance 
summer  and  winter  visitors,  beside  having  particularly  intimate 
acquaintance  with  some  which  we  too  shall  be  glad  to  »»--^et. 
A  number  of  the  stories  which  follow  are  based  upon  his  own 
personal  observations.  You  will  find  his  name  upon  ti  .■  title 
page.  He  is  a  director  in  the  Audubon  Society  for  the  Pro- 
tection of  Birds,  which  makes  it  certain  that  the  citizens  of 
Bird  World  are  as  safe  in  his  hands  as  are  we.  You  have  thus 
the  combined  powers  of  two  who  are  both  friends  of  young 
people  and  of  birds. 


VI 


PREFACE. 


A  third  point  of  interest  lies  in  having  true  portraits  of 
birds  by  the  distinguished  artist,  Mr.  Ernest  Seton  Thompson,  for 
which  you  must  thank  our  generous  publishers,  as  also  for  the 
color  photographs  which  help  us  to  see  better  how  the  living 
birds  we  are  arning  to  recognize  really  look.  A  number  of 
other  kindnesses  have  helped  us  to  make  this  book  attractive 
and  instructive.  The  use  of  drawings  by  Mr.  Ridgway  was 
most  kindly  allowed  us  by  Dr.  Merriam,  of  the  Department  of 
Agriculture,  at  Washington.  Other  sketches  were  made  for  us 
by  Mr.  Knobel,  and  by  arrangement  with  the  publishers  of  the 
Ospr^  we  have  the  use  of  several  attractive  portraits  and 
sketches.     For  the  use  of  the  Snowy  Egret  we  are  indebted  to 

Miss  S.  J.  Eddy. 

We  also  express  our  obligation  to  visitors  we  have  met  in 
Bird  World,  some  of  whose  names  occur  in  our  record,  for  bits 
of  testimony  and  song.  In  return  we  commend  the  books  they 
have  given  to  the  world  to  be  read  when  this  "  younger  book " 
has  prepared  you  for  them.  Among  them  are  :  Birds  of  Village 
and  Field,  Miss  Florence  Merriam ;  Citizen  Bird,  Mrs.  Mabel 
Osgood  Wright  ;  Winter  Neighbors,  Neltjo  TManchan  ;  Bird  Life, 
F.  A.  Chapman  ;  and  the  writings  of  Mrs.  Olive  Thome  Miller. 


P" 


fe.- >^4r>6>'«..;.J&S^^- 


CONTENTS. 


The  Goldfinch 

The  Phoe!)e »    . 

Verses 

The  Robin 

The  Oriole 

Heralds  of  the  Summer      .     . 

The  Bluebird 

The  Coming  of  the  Birds   .     . 

The  Indigo  Bird 

The  Story  of  a  Grouse  .     .     .     , 

Bird  Acquaintance 

Bills  of  Fare 

Gull  Dick 

Verses 

The  Owl .     .     . 

The  Scarlet  Tanager      .     .     .     . 

The  Politest  Bird 

A  Family  of  Backwoodsmen  . 
The  Downy  Woodpecker     . 

The  Flicker 

The  Sapsucker 

A  Second  Sparrow  Study 
The     Song     Sparrow    and     the 
Chipping  Sparrow      .     .     .     . 
How  Birds  Pass  the  Night 

The  Blue  Jay 

Bird  Homes 

THe  Nest  as  ars  Hvei-: 


TAGS 

I 


3 
6 

7 
II 

'3 
'5 
i8 

>9 

21 

24 
26 
29 
30 
31 
36 

37 
40 

41 
44 
47 
49 

51 

54 
56 

58 

59 


The  Kingbird 5, 


The  Warbler  Family 
A  Clever  Wren      ;     , 

Audubon 
Wren 
The  Wren    . 
At  the  Bath . 
The  Catbird 

Verses  . 
Nest  Builders 
The  Swallows 

Verses  . 


and    the    House 


67 
68 

69 
70 

73 
75 
78 

79 
84 

85 


The  Barn  Swallow }J6 

The  Red- winged  Blaokbird      . 

About  Birds'  Toes 

Bob  White 

Audubon  and  the  Phoebes .     . 

How  Young  Birds  Get  Fed     .     . 

Food  of  Birds 

When  a  Bird  Changes  his  Clothes 

A  Bird  in  the  Hand 106 

Bird  Passports i , , 

The  Bird  of  Many  Names  . 

The  Bobolink 

Gypsy  Birds ,2^ 

Foster- Mothers ,23 

Two  Father  Birds 125 

Bom  in  a  Boat 128 


89 

9' 

95 
98 

99 

100 

'03 


"7 
119 


rjmi..m^M^.  "i^irM?:J-m?K;?T2ss*: 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


PAGB 

How  the  Wood  Duck  Gets  her 

Young  to  the  Water  .  .  .13° 
The  Great  Caravan  Route  •  13' 
Bird  World  in  Winter  .  ■  ■  •  I3S 
Bird  Lodgings  in  Winter    .     .     .138 

Verses '39 

The  Eagle '40 

The  Chickadee U' 

A  Bird- Paradise '42 

Versea '43 

The  Sea-Gull '44 

A  Great  Traveler '45 

The  Redstart '5° 

The  Humming  Bird '5' 

As  Free  as  a  Bird '55 


PAGB 

To  the  Great  and  General  Court 

of  Massachusetts '  5^ 

Thirds'  Enemies '62 

Families  in  Bird  World  ....  169 

Feathers  and  Flight t72 

Flight '78 

The  Snowy  Egret »8o 

The  Wood  Thrush «83 

The  Brown  Thrush '84 

Hawks     ., '86 

Bird  Language '9° 

Some  Strange  Bird  Music  .     •     .193 

Bird  Bills '95 

Appendix '99 

Index 212 


! 


FULL-PAGE  ILLUSTRATIONS  AND  COLORED  PICTURES. 


A  Pair  of  Goldfinches    .     .     . 

Robin colored 

Oriole 

Yellow  Warbler    .     • 
Bluebird 

Owl " 

Scarlet  Tanager     .     .       " 

Cedar  Bird    .     •     •     •       " 
Downy  Woodpecker .       " 
Tl.e  Song  Sparrow     .    .     .     . 
A  Pair  of  Kingbirds  .    .     .     . 


PAGB 
I 

•  9 

12 

•  '3 

.    16 

•.3 

•  36 

•  37 

•  40 

•  5' 
.    64 


Thrushes 


PAGB 

•  67 
.  84 
.  96 
.  100 
.     136 


Louisiana  Water 

A  Happy  Pair 

Part  of  a  Quail  Family  .     .     .     ■ 

Black-throated  Green  Warblers  . 

Winter  life 

Herring  Gulls  and  their  Nesting 

Places  

Thfe  Redstart 

A  Pair  of  Orioles « 5^ 

A  Useful  Hawk    ....••  188 
The  Wood  Thrush »92 


144 
150 


?^«^S5^i^JSi?r^MPS* 


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fwm^s^;^^m':i^^.wms- . 


A    PAIR    OF   GOLDFINCHES. 


'^m^^mi^w^M^^' i^'m-'f^^^sr,  ,^.>% 


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BIRD    WORLD. 


^t^K" 


THE  GOLDFINCH. 

SINCE  there  must  be  a  first  bird  for  us  to  meet  in 
this  long  visit  we  are  to  make  together  in  Bird 
World,  and  some  of  us  have  to  choose  which  one,  sup- 
pose we  let  it  be  the  pretty  confiding  Goldfinch, 
who  with  his  mate  shall  stand  upon  the  threshold  to 

receive  us. 

This  old  pasture  where  little  grows  but  weeds  and 
thistles   is   a  favorite    place    with    the    Goldfinches. 
Thistlebird  is  one  of  the  names  by  which  they  are 
known.     There  is  no  merrier  bird  than  the  Goldfinch. 
He  spends  the  pleasantest  part  of  the  year,  the  spring 
months,  when    other  birds   are    busiest,  singing  and 
enjoying  the  sunshine.     When  winter  comes,  instead 
of  leaving  us  he  sta-    with  a  hapny  company  of  friends, 
feeding  on  weeds  t        stand  above  the  snow,  twitter- 
ing and  calling  sweetly  to  his  companions.     It  is  not 
strange,  then,  that  the  Goldfinch  has  many  friends  and 
no  enemies. 


2  BIRD    WORLD. 

The  little  Goldfinches  are  cradled  in  the  softest  of 
silk— nothing  lf.>s  than  thistledown.  With  thi**  the 
mother  lines  the  nest,  which  is  generally  built  late  in 
June,  when  thistles  have  begun  to  ripen.  The  thistle 
is  a  good  friend  to  the  Goldfinch,  for  its  seeds  are  a 
favorite  food. 

When  the  little  Goldfinches  leave  the  nest,  they  are 
by  no  means  as  brightly  colored  as  their  father.  No 
canary-colored  vest  or  black  cap  is  provided  for  them, 
but  very  sober  brownish  suits.  When  April  comes 
again,  you  will  see  some  of  them  looking  a  little 
brighter,  and  in  a  few  weeks  they  will  come  into  as 
bright  plumage  as  their  father.  The  others,  the 
females,  still  keep  the  darker  color,  like  their  mother. 

The  Goldfinch  flies  in  great  curves,  and  as  he  goes 
dov.nward  he  begins  a  pretty  little  twitter  which  he 
finishes  on  the  upward  curve.  Through  the  wide  air, 
over  fields  and  farms,  he  swings  along  with  his  bright 
"  De-rt'^^-de,  de-rt^^-de,  de-rt'^-^-de."  Not  the  coldest  or 
wettest  weather  can  make  him  utter  a  complaining 
note.  Perhaps  you  know  some  boy  or  girl  who  is 
cheerful  and  lively  all  the  day  and  all  the  year. 


_ ..J^ 


THE   PHCEBE. 

MEAR  Boston  there  is  a  little  stream  celebrated  by 
A  ^  an  American  poet  who  loved  birds.  It  is  called 
Beaver  Brook,  and  the 
scenery  abc  t  it  is  so 
beautiful  that,  partly  by 
gift  and  partly  by  pur- 
chase, a  large  tract  of 
land  has  been  set  apart 
for  a  Park,  or  Reserva- 
tion as  it  is  called,  so 
that  its  beauty  can  be 
preserved  and  people  be 
free  to  visit  it  whenever 
they  wish. 

At  the  head  of  the 
brook  are  two  ponds,  and  between  the  two  is  a  little 
bridge  under  which  the  water  all  the  ysar  rushes 
foaming  and  splashing.  When  the  poet  Lowell  used 
to  visit  the  brook,  there  was  a  mill  at  this  spot,  and 
the  foaming  water  used  to  turn  a  big  mill  wheel  and 
help  the  dusty  miller  grind  the  grain  which  his  neigh- 
bors brought. 


Fig.  1.  —  Phoebe. 


•   '3  ■  t4/'ff-:s'.'4i'. 


BIRD    WORLD. 


About  the  last  of  March  every  year  a  citizen  of 
Massachusetts,  who  has  spent  the  winter  farther  south, 
returns  to  the  spot  and  calls  out  his  name  from  the 
trees  about  the  shore,  "  Phoe-bee  !  Phoe-bee  !  "  stopping 
now  and  then  to  dart  over  the  water  for  a  gnat  or  fly, 
and  snapping  his  tail  when  he  returns  to  the  tree. 

An  old  man  who  has  lived  in  the  neighborhood  for 
many  years  says  that  when  he  was  a  boy,  seventy 
years  ago,  the  Phoebe  came  every  year  just  as  it  does 
to-day,  and  he  and  his  sister  visited  the  mill  every 
April  to  find  the  neat,  well-built  nest  which  the  bird 
placed  on  the  rafters  of  the  mill. 

The  buzzing  and  whirring  of  the  wheel,  and  the 
grinding  sound  made  by  the  heavy  millstones  did  not 
disturb  either  the  parent  birds  or  their  young.  The 
miller  knew  them  and  gladly  let  them  use  his  roof  for 
shelter. 

The  boy  and  his  sister  loved  them  too,  and  never 
stole  the  nest  nor  frightened  them.  To-day  the  mill 
is  torn  down,  but  on  the  very  spot  where  it  stood 
they  find  the  bridge,  and  under  it  the  strong  beams 
that  support  it.  Here  they  still  build  their  nest ;  the 
water  foams  and  splashes  below  them  ;  people,  and 
sometimes  horses  and  wagons,  tramp  over  them,  but 
they  have  no  fear.  In  spite  of  all  the  changes,  they 
prefer  their  old  home  to  any  other. 

The  old  man  and  his  sister  nul^     soon  pass  away, 


THE   rmEHE.  5 

and  even  the  younger  people  who  now  M'sit  the  spot 
will  sometime  die  too,  but  if  the  state,  which  now 
owns  the  ponds,  leaves  the  bridge  and  the  trees  and 
bushes  on  its  banks,  I  feel  sure  that  every  springtime 
the  Phoebe's  note  will  be  heard  in  the  last  days  of 
March,  and  the  pretty  moss-covered  nest  will  be  built 
under  the  bridge. 

The  young  birds  will  learn  to  fly  off  and  catch 
msects  on  the  wing,  and  will  snap  their  tails  too,  as 
their  parents  do ;  and  some  day,  when  their  parents 
die,  they  will  come  and  build  nests  under  the  bridge. 
No  one  knows  when  they  first  came  to  this  spot,  nor 
how  long  they  will  continue  to  return. 

Note.  _  It  was  my  happy  privilege  to  live  for  srven  years  in  the  cot- 
tage upon  the  estate  to  which  the  ponds  belonged  before  Massachusetts 
made  a  present  of  them  to  all  its  nature-loving  citizens. 

It  must  have  been  this  same  Phoebe  who  called  to  me  from  the  pine 
grove  across  the  street  so  often  in  its  plaintive  way.  Once  when  I  was 
.II  I  took  turns  in  fancying,  first,  that  Phcbe  was  lost  and  wished  to 
be  found  ;  and  second,  that  some  one  was  staying  away  too  long  and 
must  be  called  home  to  ease  an  anxiou.  heart.  But  the  note  is  hardly 
Ike  a  call ;  ,t  sounds  more  like  a  sweet,  loving  memory  that  takes  this 
way  of  expressing  itself.  How  glad  I  should  have  been  then  to  know 
that  I  was  living  at  the  ancestral  home  of  this  ancient  family  ! 

J.  H.  S. 


BIRD    WORLD. 

WHY  ROBIN  DID  NOT  SING  IN  THE  SOUTH. 

Ik  I  ever  tried  a  note 
Something  rose  within  my  throat. 

'T  was  because  my  heart  was  true 
To  the  north  and  sptingtime  new  ; 

My  mind's  eye  a  nest  could  see 
In  yon  old  forked  apple  tree  ! 


EijiTH  Thomas 


JV-V. 


Fig.  2.  —  Robin. 

They  'll  come  again  to  the  apple  tree,  — 

Robin  and  all  the  rest, — 
When  the  orchard  branches  are  fair  to  see 

In  the  snow  of  blossoms  dressed, 
And  the  prettiest  thing  in  the  world  will  be 
The  building  of  the  ne  ^t. 

Mrs.  M.  E.  Sangstek. 


W^MM 


THE   ROBIN. 

[^ONG  before  you  are  awake,  the  Robins  have  had 

V    >  "  "^°'""'"^'  "^^'^^•^^^  -^ung   a  very  jolly  choT 

visited  two  or  three  cherry  trees  and  hv  thl\ 

have    breaL-fn«f^^        j     ^  '  ^^  ^"^  ^""^  you 

ta..-n/;:rrLTir  u: "  '"='^-  '-^^  -^ 

twice  .   >ar«e; ';,:!•:;  if Tongef'^r:;.-'::'^ 
br.ght  orange  in  color  '^    '  ""''   " 

Instead  of  squabbling  and  scratching  in  the  midc    ■ 
top      elrand^t'^'T  "^  '"  ""^''^  'o 'louses  o'e^ 

-PS  id  thenSr^i^XT^ra;:- ' '- 

Fruit  IS  very  dear  to  the  RobJn      A/        • 

Hun'ti^g  forr;;sTn,;T  r"^  "r- '-  •- 

share  with  him      hfn  T        \^     ^  "^"""'^  ^^''e  to 

pulls  and  pulir'till  tL  "'''  ^""'^''  °'^  ^''^  ^^^^  '-^nd 
pulls,  till  the  poor  worm  he  is  seeking  has 


8 


JilRD    WORLD. 


i 

life 


to  let  go,  and  after  some  hard  pounding  by  Robin's 
sharp  bill,  it  is  carried  off  to  the  nest  for  the  little 
ones,  or  gulped  df)vv  i  by  Robin  himself. 

Mr.  James  RusseJ  Lowell  calls  the  Robin's  nest 
*'  an  adobe  house."  Perhaps  some  of  you  have  read 
how  people  in  Colorado  build  houses  of  dried  clay, 
which  bakes  in  the  sun.  This  is  called  adobe,  and 
both  the  Robin  and  the  Swallow  know  how  to  build 
in  this  fashion. 

Four  eggs  of  "  robin's  egg  blue,"  laid  early  in  May, 
hatch  into  very  ugly  and  very  hungry  youngsters. 
Their  b:g  yellow  mouths  are  opened  wide  whenever 
the  mother  or  father  comes  near.  These  parents  are 
kept  busy  all  day  and  every  day  for  a  fortnight  till  the 
young  birds  grow  big,  till  feathers  cover  their  naked 
little  bodies,  and  one  of  them  steps  to  the  edge  of  the 
mud  nest  and  looks  out. 

This  is  an  anxious  time  for  the  parents.  Soon  the 
boldest  youngster  tries  his  wings  and  makes  for  a 
neighboring  twig.  If  he  misses  it  and  flutters  down 
to  the  ground,  the  parents  fly  back  and  forth,  making 
a  great  outcry  which  collects  many  other  bira^,.  If 
no  cat  comes  prowling  about,  th-  little  one  tries  again 
and  perhaps  gets  safely  off,  but  often  a  bunch  of  gray 
feathers  tells  the  sad  story  of  his  short  life. 

When  the  young  birds  who  escape  all  the  dangers 
from  cats  and  hawks,  are  strong  enough  to  find  foou 


THE  ROB IX.  o 

for  themselves,  the  parents  build  another  nest  and  rear 
another  brood.  Meanwhile  the  first  brood  fly  each 
night  to  some  neighboring  grove  where  they  are  joined 
by  other  young  Robins  from  miles  around.  The  birds 
assemble  in  such  numbers  that  the  pattering  of  their 


Robin. 


wmgs  on  the  leaves,  while  they  are  arranging  their 
places  for  the  night,  sounds  like  falling  rain. 

Not  only  do  the  young  birds  come  to  these  "  roosts  " 
as  they  are  called,  but  father-Robins  also,  who  cannot 
help  their  wives  after  sun--t,  Jo'n  their  children,  or 
perhaps  show  them  the  Wc  y. 


lO 


BIRD    WORLD. 


One  eentleman,  who  watched  a  family  of  Robins 
near  his  house,  writes :  "  The  female  came  and  took 
possession  of  the  nest  for  the  night  I  saw  her 
brooding  the  young  till  it  became  so  dark  that  I  could 
distinguish  nothing.  On  the  following  evening  the 
male  fed  the  young  at  about  the  same  hour,  then  flew 
to  the  top  of  a  spruce  tree,  and  after  singing  a  good- 
nicrht  to  wife  and  babies,  took  a  direct  flight  for  the 
roost.     The  female  then  fed  the  young  and  settled 

herself  in  the  nest." 

By  the  time  you  have  learned  the  birds  names,  and 
begun  to  watch  their  habits,  you  may  wonder  whether 
there  is  anything  new  for  you  to  find  out. 

You  mav  think,  that  if  so  many  people  have  studied 
them  for  a  hundred  years,  they  will  have  found  out 
all  their  interesting  ways.     But  do  not  be  discouraged 
Nothing  could  be  more  interesting  than  this  habit  ot 
the  Robins  of  assembling  every  summer  night  in  these 
.reat  companies;  and  yet, though  the  Robin  is  every- 
where common,  and  has  been  studied  by  hundreds  of 
bird  students,  it  was  only  eight  years  ago  that  anything 
was  written  about  "  Robin  roosts." 


THE  ORIOLE. 


f  T  is  in  May  when  woodlands  are  green  with  swell- 
*  ing  buds  and  spreading  leaves,  and  fragrant  with 
the  sweet  wild  flowers,  that  the  brilliant  Oriole  appears 


among  us. 


Very  early  one  morning  I  heard  his  clear  whistle 
and  hastened  to  find  him.  He  looked  down  upon  me 
rather  inquiringly,  as  if  he  wanted  to  say,  "  What  do 
you  think  of  me.?"  and  my  heart  answered,  "  I  think 
you  are  beautiful ! " 

He  was  alone  for  a  few  days,  busy  as  a  bird  could 
be,  trying  to  select  a  house  lot.  He  flew  from  tree  to 
tree,  in  orchard,  garden,  and  yard.  A  tall,  stately  elm 
seems  to  please  him  best,  and  when  the  shy  little  lady 
he  is  to  make  his  wife  is  coaxed  to  the  tallest  branch, 
she  demurs,  as  she  knows  the  peril  of  building  there,' 
and  with  a  decision  he  does  not  quite  relish  she  tells 
him  a  lower  branch  would  suit  her  better. 

She  begins  very  soon  to  collect  materials  for  build- 
ing, singing  as  she  works,  making  long  journeys  for 
the  hair  and  twine  necessary  for  her  home.  After 
nest  come  eggs,  and  after  eggs  baby  birds.  The 
proud  and  happy  father  shows  his  love  as  well  by  the 
care  he  takes,  and  the  watchfulness,  as  by  the  songs 


12 


BIRD    WORLD. 


he  pours  from  his  full  throat.     Often  he  seems  to 
say  to   the   mother,  "Run  out   now   and   stretch   a 


Oriole. 


little";  and  she  goes,  but  not  for  very  long.  Why 
is  it  that  mothers  think  no  one  can  be  quite  so  con- 
tent and  happy  with  their  babies  as  themselves .? 


K'-      ^^ 


1 


Summer  Warbler,  or  Vellowbird. 

HERALDS  OF  THE   SUMMEP. 

IF  we  make  a  residence  in  Bird  World  in  such  a  place 
that  our  doors  and  windows  open  out  upon  hedges 
or  shrubbery,  or  upon  a  garden,  we  shall  not  need  to 
search  for  this  little  bird  in  the  picture.  He  will  come 
to  us  with  his  pretty  yellow  mate. 


J  ■'■"f*r\,  - 


,^  BIRD    WORLD. 

The  gentleness  of  the  summer  Yellowbirds  wins 
our  love.  They  are  as  sunny  in  their  temper  as  in 
their  looks.     "  Pretty  is  that  pretty  does  "  never  need 

put  them  to  shame.  ,  ..      .      j  i:u« 

The  Cowbirds  have  long  since  found  it  out  and,  like 
the  naucrhty  birds  they  are,  have  taken  advantage  o 
it;  but  gentle  people,  if  they  will  not  quarrel  will  not 
always  suffer  their  own  plans  to  be  turned  aside.  The 
Cowbird  sometimes  f^nds  his  match,  as  we  sha  1  see. 
The  following  little  word-picture  will  show  you  how  a 
Yellowbird's  nest  looked  to  Mr.  Keyscr,  and  what 
the  bird  did  when  she  found  herself  imposed  upon. 

"  The  nest  of  the  Summer  Warbler  was  a  dainty 
structure,  composed  of  downy  material,  and  deftly 
lod-ed  among  the  twigs  of  a  sapling  at  the  foot  of  a 
cliff  A  cold  spring  gurgled  from  the  rocks  near  by ; 
the  willows  and  buttonwood  trees  bent  to  the  balmy 
breeze,  and  the  tinkling  of  the  brook  mingled  with 
the  songs  of  many  birds. 

"  Our  little  strategist  comes  home  and  finds  a  Low- 
bird's  egg  dropped  ^nto  her  nest.  She  begins  forih- 
with  to  add  another  story,  and  this  leaves  the  interloper 
in  the  cellar,  with  a  floor  between  it  and  her  warm 
breast  I  have  found  several  of  these  exquisite  towers 
that  were  three  stories  high,  in  the  top  of  which  the 
little  bird  sat  perched  like  a  goddess  on  the  summit 
of  Olympia." 


■^■--S- 


THE   BLUEBIRD. 


DO  you  believe  that  a  Bluebird  would  think  of  com- 
ing to  New  Engl-ind  in  February? 

One  bright,  crisp  morning  in  the  last  month  of 
winter,  I  heard  a  clear,  lively,  little  song  that  I  knew, 
and  of  course  I  hastened  to  find  my  friend,  the  Blue- 
bird. The  "  Blue  Robin" little  children  sometimes  call 
him,  and  indeed  he  is  a  cousin  to  the  Robin  family. 

He  was  very  cunning  at  hiding  in  the  old  apj)lc 
tree,  and  very  shy  when  I  found  him. 

Soon  there  was  a  nest,  and  a  little  later  a  family  of 
five,  one  beinij  a  ffuest  who  had  traveled  north  for  the 
first  time,  perhaps,  and  was  not  in  haste  to  have  the 
care  of  a  family.  He  never  did  any  work,  but  flitted 
about  as  if  made  simply  to  enjoy  himself  and  be 
admired. 

If  you  had  seen  him,  you  would  have  thought  it 
very  natural  Such  a  putting  together  of  heavenly 
blue,  and  warm,  rich,  yellowish  red  would  be  enough 
to  turn  any  head  that  was  not  full  of  earnest  purpose. 

The  home  was  built  by  the  bird  mother  in  the 
orchard  where  I  could  easily  watch  it,  and  we  became 
very  good  friends,  these  dear  Bluebirds  and  I.     They 


i6 


BIRD    WORLD. 


ate  the  crumbs  I  gave  them,  and  my  joy  in  them  was 
complete  when  they  came  boldly  to  my  door. 


Bluebird. 


Mother  Bluebird,  as  perhaps  you  may  know,  is  more 
quietly  dressed  than  her  gallant  mate.     It  is  not  that 


THE   BLUEBIRD. 


'7 


she  would  not  take  good  care  of  a  bright  costume,  for 
birds  are  tidy  in  their  persons ;  but  she  thinks  more 
of  safety  than  of  looks,  and  it  might  be  inconvenient 
to  have  to  fly  out  of  harm's  reach  just  when  home 
could  least  spare  her. 

A  pair  of  Robins  with  very  red  breasts  built  a  nest 
close  by,  and  seemed  to  be  good  neighbors.  How 
did  I  know,  do  you  ask?  Well,  for  one  thing  they 
formed  a  chorus,  and  before  sunrise  I  would  hear 
them  singii     together. 


^  Pot  rlirad 


The  above  diagram  explains  some  names  often  used  in  describing  a  bird. 


THE  COMING  OF   THE   BIRDS. 

I N  the  lesson  on  the  Oriole  you  read  that  he  came 
I  in  May  when  buds  were  bursting  into  flowers.  1 
wonder  whether  you  asked  yourself,  as  you  read, 
where  he  had  come  from  and  why  he  had  not  come 

before.  . 

These  are  questions  that  the  very  wisest  men  have 
found  it  hard  to  answer.  Without  hurrying  to  answer 
them  now,  —  for  if  you  read  further  there  will  be  more 
about  these  things,— let  us  ask  some  country  boy 
when  the  birds  come  back  and  which  come  first. 

If  our  friend  has  sharp  eyes  and  ears,  he  will  know 
that  early  in  March  he  hears  the  first  Robin,  and 
with  him' come  the  gentle  Bluebird,  the  noisy  Black- 
birds, and  the  cheery  Song  Sparrow.  The  Phoebe 
waits  a  fortnight  till  the  flies  and  gnats  begin  to  stir, 
for  his  food  does  not  lie  on  the  ground  like  that  of 
the  birds  just  mentioned. 

In  April  come  many  more  birds,  but  May  is  the 
great  month  for  the  returning  tribes.  The  names 
alone  of  all  those  that  come  in  the  warm  days  of  early 
May  would  fill  a  page.  Bird  World  in  the  north  is 
like  a  seaside  summer  place,  very  empty  in  winter, 
but  stirring  with  life  in  summer. 


Ib-'JL'*.^ 


THE  INDIGO  BIRD. 

\TOVV  that  we  are  on  Bluebirds,  let  us  give  a 
A  ^  thought  to  a  smaller  Bluebird  without  the  bright 
breast. 

The  Indigo  bird  seems  to  be  all  blue  till,  looking 
closely,  we  see  a  greenish  cast  in  some  lights,  and 
a  trace  of  brownish  color  on  under  parts  and  wings 
and  tail. 

The  Bluebird,  as  I  told  you,  though  smaller  than  the 
Robin,  is  a  near  relative  ;  the  Indigo  bird  is  perhaps 
as  near  a  cousin  to  the  Sparrow.  Lady  Indigo  wears 
brown  for  the  most  part,  only  adding  her  husband's 
"colors,"  as  a  good  wife  should,  on  shoulders  and 
outer  tail  webs. 

This  is  a  wise  precaution,  for  these  birds  do  not 
carry  on  their  family  affairs  high  out  of  harm's  way, 
but  build  a  nest  in  a  low  bush  or  on  tall,  stiff  grasses. 
They  will  build  by  the  roadside  sooner  than  close  by 
our  homes,  and  they  do  not  respond  with  confidence 
to  our  friendly  advances. 

But,  while  they  nest  and  feed  on  or  near  the  ground 
you  will  most  often  see  one  swinging  from  a  topmost 
twig  of  a  tall  tree,  when  its  song  makes  you  search 
for  the  singer. 


JO 


JUKI!  noKi.n. 


I  )„  not  look  for  them  anK„.g  the  very  earliest  birds , 
,h  V  n  ake  up  to  us  for  coming  later  to  the  b.rd  con- 
erf  of  the  year,  by  singing  away  on  m  August,  «he„ 
many  of  the  other  birds  are  resting  the.r  voices.     If 
YOU  are  walking  or  riding  on  a  country  road  well  lined 
vvi.h  shrubs  and  trees,  i  should  be  surprised  if  you  do 
not  before  sumn,er  ends,  looking  up,  see  the   male 
Indi-o   bird -a   little  blue   canary  you   will    think 
_o^  the   outer   end   of  a  high  twig;   or,  once  m 
a  summer,    you   may   come   upon    the  ^^^-^f"'^^ 
mother  dusting  herself  as  mother-hens  do  and  com- 
ing  from  her  bath  feeling  as  clean  as  you  do  coming 
from  yours. 


What  if  the  sky  is  clouded  ? 

What  if  the  rain  comes  down  ? 
They  are  all  dressed  to  meet  it 

In  waterproof  suits  of  brown. 

BLUEBIRD. 

"So  the  Bluebirds  have  contracted,  have  they  for  a  house? 
And  a  nest  is  under  way  for  little  Mr.  Wren  ? 
Hush,  dear,  hush  :     Be  quiet,  quiet  as  a  mouse." 


THE   STORY  OF   A  GROUSE. 

j  WAS  born  in  the  swamp  at  the  foot  of  this  hill, 
*  under  the  laurel ;  and  as  soon  as  I  broke  through 
the  shell,  I  ran  off  over  the  dry  leaves  with  my  brothers 
and  sisters. 

There  were  ten  of  us,  and  from  June,  when  we 
were  born,  till  August  we  kept  close  to  our  mother. 
The  whole  family  wandered  here  and  there  through 
the  swamp,  and  though  we  children  sometimes  ran  off 
too  far,  we  found  each  other  again  by  peeping  and  by 
listening  for  our  mother's  cluck. 

Once  a  man  and  two  children  came  upon  us  sud- 
denly and  we  all  hurried  off  among  the  leaves,  where 
we  squatted  down  and  kept  as  quiet  as  we  could. 
Or  mother,  however,  ran  out  in  front  of  the  man, 
trailing  her  wings  close  to  the  ground,  and  keeping 
his  attention  till  she  felt  sure  we  were  well  hidden. 
Then  she  ran  off  through  the  bushes.  Presently  we 
heard  her  cluck  and  each  of  us  answered  with  a  faint 
peep  and  one  after  another  we  came  out  from  our  hid- 
ing places.  Then  our  mother  took  us  quickly  off 
into  the  deep  bushes  to  a  place  of  safety. 

We  found  enough  to  eat  all  summer ;  berries  were 
plentiful  and  we  became  skilful  in  catching  the  spi- 


:V«rf 


22 


BIRD    WORl.n. 


,lers  and  beetles  that  ran  over  the  K'™";"-  ^he" 
we  were  verv  little  we  spent  the  niyht  under  our 
^.tJuVs  wings,  poking  our  heads  out  through  the 
feathers  when  it  grew  light. 

Whit   we   disliked   most  was   the  cold   ram    that 

s.>metimer  fell,  chilling  us  through  our  feathers,  and 

iin-ventini:  us  from  finding  food. 

'^  \l^  kept  together  till  the  fall  and  since  then,  though 

.hi  are'man;  Crouse  in  these  woods,  we  have  neve 

nd  a  family  •reunion.     By  the  fall,  too,  we  had  all 

1  ,„  rtv  orettv  well ;  we  were  strong  of  wing, 
earned  to  ny  picuy   "■-",  , 

and  at  night  we  tiew  into  trees  and  roosted  on  th. 

branches.  .   ,     ^Up 

Nov,   l.e.,.u>  tlic  season  when  men  came  mto  the 

woods  to  shoot  us,  and  though  I  escaped  myself,  I 

often  saw  the  fallen  feathers  of  less  fortunate  b.rds^ 
The  sound  of  the  guns,  and  an  experience      had 

with   a  fox  who   almost  caught  me  because       vvas 
™«ting  too  near  the  ground,  taught  me  a  va  uab  e 

lesson,  so  that  now,  without  boastmg,  I  may  claim  to 

l^i>  T  nrettv  wary  old  bird. 

I  v':ell  remember  the  falling  of  the  first  snow  m 
November,  and  yet  1  was  not  so  surprised  a^you  m.gh 
imagine.  It  seemed  natural  to  see  the  white  masses 
"vering  the  vines  and  leaves ;  and  I  found  that  feath- 
ers had  grown  on  my  toes  so  that  ■'. was  almost  as 
it  I  walked  on  snowshoes.     When  I  tound  out  that 


TJtE   STORY  01'  A   GROUSE. 


23 


the  buds  of  many  of  the  bushes  were  fine  eating,  I  felt 
no  desire  to  leave  the  woods  where  I  was  born. 

So  here  I  stay,  year  in  and  year  out.  In  March  I 
have  a  favorite  log  where  I  always  drum.  You  can 
hear  my  strokes  a  mile  away,  and  when  I  am  drum- 
ming I  spread  out  my  tail  and  blow  out  my  feath- 
ers, till  there  is  no  handsomer  bird  in  the  swamp. 

Each  year  I  see  and  hear  the  Ovenbirds  that  come 
to  rest  on  my  log,  and  they  tell  me  of  their  journeys 
southward  in  the  fall,  and  the  fine  woods  they  find 
where  there  is  never  snow,  but  I  think  my  own  woods 
are  best.  I  should  be  a  foolish  Grouse  to  fly  so  far 
into  an  unknown  country  when  my  feathers  keep  me 
so  warm  and  buds  are  so  easy  to  find. 


i     'i- 


.■I^M 


BIRD  ACQUAINTANCE. 

HOW  many  birds  are  you  sure  you  would  kiKuv  by 
si<rht?  '  You  can  tell  an  English  Sparrow  from 
a  Robin'or  Bluebird,  and  you  would  not  mistake  the 
Sununer  Yellowbird  or  the  Oriole  ])erhaps. 

Will  vou  not  begin  to  get  into  closer  acquamtance 
,vith  th  J  citizens  of^Bird  World  ?  Let  us  stop  searching 
for  new  birds  and  study  awhile  some  that  we  already 
know.  The  h:nglish  Sparrow  is  the  commonest  of 
all  and  vou  will  not  need  to  go  far  to  f^nd  one. 

As  I  write,  there  is  one  within  a  few  feet  of  me  in 
the  pear-tree  branches  outside  my  window. 

What  is  it  that  we  wish  to  know  ?  First,  by  what 
marks  shall  we  recognize  him  when  he  comes  again. 
The  male  and  female  Sparrows  differ,  and  the  young 
at  different  ages.  We  will  try  to  remember  where 
this  one  is  slate  color,  and  where  brown,  where  light 
colored,  and  where  darker,  whether  the  color  is  in 
patches,  bars,  or  streaks,  whether  it  shades  into  an- 
other color  or  ends  distinctly.  The  diagram  of  a 
bird  on  page  17  will  help  us  in  stating  what  we  .see. 

Now  we  must  record  what  we  have  learned,  to  see 
if  it  f^ts  the  next  Sparrow.  This  one  may  be  a  Cock 
Sparrow,  and  that  may  be  a  lady-bird;  or  this  may  be 


-^* 


BIRD   ACQ  UA1\TANCK. 


25 


a  bird  a  year  or  two  old,  and  the  next  one  but  a  few- 
months.     It  will  take  time  to  learn  them  all. 

Now  we  are  ready  to  study  the  ways  of  our  little 
visitor  in  the  tree.  See  him  rub  his  bill,  first  on  this 
side  and  then  that,  against  the  branch  on  which  he 
l^erches.  Is  it  to  dry  it,  or  to  sharpen  it,  or  to  polish 
it  ?     Half  the  time  it  may  be  only  a  habit. 

He  is  on  a  bare  branch,  but  how  he  pecks  and 
jjecks;  if  you  watch,  you  may  see  him  swallow. 
When  he  has  gone,  go  and  see  if  there  are  grubs  or 
insects  in  the  cracks  of  the  bark. 

While  you  have  been  looking,  he  has  hopped  to 
new  places  to  rub  his  bill  and  peck  as  before.  He 
goes  to  a  topmost  branch  and  you  sec  his  under  parts. 
The  branch  is  too  large  for  him  to  grasp  with  his  toes, 
but  he  clings,  and  head  and  tail  help  him  to  keep  his 
balance.  Perhaps  he  will  stretch  one  wing  so  that  its 
quills  stand  all  apart;  and  see  him  lift  the  little  brown 
feathers  under  his  chin,  or  where  his  chin  should  be. 
Do  you  know  how  much  birds  can  lift  and  loosen 
their  feathers  if  they  wish,  or  how  tightly  they  can 
hug  them.?  If  you  saw  them  held  loosely  on  a  cold 
day  or  night,  they  would  make  Cock  Sparrow  seem  a 
much  larger  bird. 

If  you  have  looked  with  real  interest  at  one  little 
half-despised  Sparrow,  something  has  been  left  in  your 
heart  which  will  remain  and  grow. 


.=  ■/;■*•;■' 


I 


BILLS  OF  FARE. 

A  CERTAIN  family  in  a  country  town  is  often 
A  joined  at  dinne'r  by  some  friends  who  are  con- 
tent with  "  just  the  bones." 

Doers,  vou  will  say;  but  they  are  not  dogs.  Turn 
to  pa<;e  ui  and  you  will  see  one  of  these  little  guests, 
and  i?  vou  look  closely  you  will  see  that  though  he 
cannot ^,^et  as  much  off  a  bone  as  a  dog  yet  his  beak 
is  stoutV'UOUgh  and  his  eye  sharp  enough  to  pick  the 

last  bit  of  gristle.  ,  ,     .  n  i      u  ^  if 

He  docs  not  come  to  these  people  s  table,  but  it 
the  window  is  open  he  is  almost  within  reach  of  the 
children's  hands.  There  is  an  old  apple  tree  just  out- 
side the  dining-room,  and  on  its  branches  there  a  ways 
hangs  a  ham  or  mutton  bone.  This  is  visited  almost 
everv  day  in  winter  until  it  is  picked  clean.      _ 

Sometimes  the  Downy  Woodpecker  drills  into  the 
tough  tendrons,  and  occasionally  a  fat  bluish  gray 
bird  with  white  under  parts- Nuthatch  is  his  name 
—  joins  the  Chickadees  at  their  feast.  ' 

Where  are  the  other  winter  birds?  you  will  ask. 
Cannot  the  little  Kinglet  and  the  Creeper  have  their 
share  ? 


■.^^'t^.J^. 


BILLS   OF  FARE.  27 

The  people  who  put  out  the  bones  would  be  glad 
enough  to  welcome  them,  and  from  what  I  know  of 
the  Chickadee's  manners,  I  think  he  would  be  the  last 
to  treat  them  rudely,  if  they  came ;  but  yet  they  are 
never  seen  clinging  to  the  bone  and  picking  at  the 
frozen  scraps. 

To  ask  a  hungry  Creeper  to  have  a  piece  of  gristle 
would  be  as  cruel  as  the  Stork  was  to  his  friend 
Reynard.  No  one  is  quicker  than  a  Creeper  when  it 
is  a  question  of  prying  a  canker-worm's  eggs  out  of 
a  crevice  in  the  bark,  but  he  cannot  use  his  slender 
bill  for  such  rough  work  as  hacking  frozen  meat. 

Up  in  Vermont  is  another  family  who  spread  a 
table  for  their  bird  friends.  The  bone  hung  up  by 
the  first  family  serves  the  Chickadee  for  a  chair,  a 
table  and  food  also;  but  the  birds  which  visit  this 
family  eat  a  different  food,  which  is  spread  out  for 
them  on  a  board  nailed  to  the  top  of  a  post.  They 
have  different  bills  from  those  of  either  the  bone- 
pickers  or  the  Creepers. 

"  Finches  "  do  you  ask  }    "  Seed  eaters }  " 

Four  or  five  different  kinds  of  Finches  come  to  this 
board.  Tree  Sparrows,  Snowbirds,  and  occasionally 
some  very  pretty  rosy-colored  birds  called  Redpoll 
Linnets.  If  you  were  near  enough  to  the  table  on 
which  the  food  is  spread,  you  could  hear  the  seeds 
crack  in  their  strong  bills,  and  though  their  bills  are 


^^€lP*^SS 


28 


HIRD    WORLD. 


so  thick  they  have  s'    h  ,Joints  and  can  pick  up  very 

small  seeds. 

Vou  see  you  can  learn  much  about  a  bird's  food  by 
examining  his  bill.  You  would  not  need  to  ask  a 
Sparrow  or  a  Swallow  what  he  would  like  to  eat.  But 
if  you  made  out  a  bird's  bill  of  fare  by  his  bill  alone 
you  might  make  a  very  great  mistake. 

Sometime  perhaps  you  will  read  about  the  Toucan, 
a  handsome  South  American  bird  whose  bill  is  as 
thick  as  his  body,  and  nearly  as  long.  You  would 
expect  him  to  crack  Brazil  nuts  with  ease,  and  would 
be  greatly  surprised  to  see  him  in  the  forests  of  the 
Amazon  chattenng  with  his  comrades  in  the  tops  of 
tall  fruit  trees,  and  holding  in  the  end  of  his  enor- 
mous beak  fruit  no  bigger  than  a  cherry. 

Birds'  beaks  are  like  tools;  some,  you  can  guess  at 
once,  are  to  be  used  for  chiseling  or  digging;  how 
others  are  used  it  is  harder  to  guess;  and  to  under- 
stand some  we  have  to  find  the  owner  and  watch  him 
at  his  work. 


"GULL  DICK." 

r\N  the  second  of  October,  1894,  the  men  on  a 
^^  certain  lightship  in  Narragansett  Bay  were 
looking  eagerly  to  see  whether  an  old  friend  had 
returned  to  spend  the  winter  with  them. 

For  twenty-two  years  a  Gull  had  appeared  each 
October  and  flown  about  the  ship  in  search  of  food, 
till  April,  when  he  had  disappeared  for  the  summer. 

The  men  on  a  lightship  see  so  little  to  amuse  them, 
that  they  soon  noticed  this  Gull  and  offered  him  food. 
He  on  his  part  grew  bolder  until  he  learned  to  vi:  . 
the  ship  regularly,  as  soon  as  morning  came,  and  to 
remain  near  it  until  it  was  time  for  him  to  return  to 
the  rocks,  where  he  spent  the  night.  His  favorite 
food  was  pork  or  fish  cut  into  pieces  as  large  as  a 
hen's  egg.  He  came  closer  to  the  ship  than  the  other 
Gulls,  and  the  crew  recognized  him  by  certain  marks 
on  his  wings. 

There  was  much  satisfaction  aboard  the  lightship 
when  "  Gull  Dick  "  appeared  on  this  particular  morning, 
but  he  seemed  to  have  taken  a  long  journey,  and  to 
have  suffered  somewhat  from  storms. 

His  plumage  was  ragged  and  his  movements  were 
-ither  more  feeble  than  they  used  to  be.     The  men 


30 


BIRD    WOKl.n. 


said  to  each  other,  "'Gull  Dick '  is  getting  old.     This 
mav  be  his  last  winter  with  us." 

they  gave  him  all  the  food  he  wanted,  for  he  seemed 
very  huiTgry.  All  through  the  winter  he  came  regu- 
larly for  his  meals,  driving  off  the  other  Gulls  if  they 
came  too  near  his  food.  The  crew  fed  him  for  the 
last  time  early  in  April ;  the  next  day  he  doubtless 
started  for  the  north,  but  what  happened  to  him  there 
no  one  knows.  Old  age,  or  a  fierce  storm,  may  have 
carried  him  off,  or  perhaps  another  bird  attacked 
him ;  at  any  rate,  he  failed  to  return  in  the  fall,  and 
the  men  in  the  lightship  have  lost  their  pet,  "  Gull 
Dick." 


TO   A   WATERFOWL. 

Whith'':r,  'midst  falling  dew, 
While  tjlow  the  heavens  with  the  last  steps  of  day, 
Far  through  their  rosy  depths,  dost  thou  pursue 

Thy  solitary  way  ? 

Vainly  the  fowler's  eye 
Might  mark  thy  distant  flight  to  do  thee  wrong, 
As.  darkly  painted  on  the  crimson  sky. 

Thy  figure  floats  along. 

Seek  'st  thou  the  plashy  brink 
Of  weedy  lake,  or  marge  of  river  wide, 
Or  vl'here  the  rocking  bi'lows  rise  and  sink 

On  the  chafed  ocean  side  ? 


Bkvant. 


THE   OWL. 


MO  one  can   mistake  an  owl.      In  every  country 

where  owls  are  found  (and  they  are  found  nearly 

everywhere),  their  wise-looking,  solemn  faces  are  well 

known.     What  is  it  that  gives  the  owl  this  look,  so 

grave  that  we  have  the  saying  "wise  as  an  owl  ".? 

Look  at  the  picture  and  notice  that  the  eyes  are 
placed  far  forward,  and  that  around  each  large  eye  is 
a  broad  circle  or  disk  of  flat  feathers.  These  circles 
of  feathers  make  the  eyes  seem  even  larger,  and  go 
far  toward  giving  the  bird  its  solemn  look. 

An  owl's  beak  and  claws  are  curved  and  strong. 
They  resemble  those  of  another  family  which  includes 
the  Hawks  and  Eagles,  who  also  live  by  violence. 

Hawks,  if  they  are  robbers,  are  at  any  rate  like  the 
robber  barons  of  old,  dependent  on  their  strength  and 
swiftness  as  much  as  on  surprise.     The  owl  is  more 
like  a  stealthy  thief,  and  his  success  depends  almost 
wholly  on  silence  and  secrecy.     Twilight  is  his  favor- 
ite time,  or  moonlight  nights.     His  feathers,  moreover, 
are  edged  with  such  soft  down  that  an  owl  might  pass 
directly  over  your  head  and  you  would  hardly^'hear  it. 
Think  of  the  whistling  of  a  pigeon's  wings  and  you 
will   see    how   remarkable   this  silence  is.     Here    s 


i! 


T 


32 


BIRD      VORLD. 


then  the  secret  of  the  owl's  success,  —  broad,  power- 
ful wines  on  which  he  relies  for  stealthy,  noiseless 
flight ;  Targe  eyes,  like  a  cat's,  which  gather  up  all 
the  dim  light ;  and  sharp,  strong  claws  which  seue 
and  tear  his  victim.     An  owl  is  a  cat  on  wings. 

It  was  long  believed  that  an  owl  could  not  see  by 
day,  and  that  he  hunted  on  the  darkest  nights.  Prob- 
.->,bly  neither  statement  is  true.  The  owl  can  see  as 
well,  if  not  better,  in  the  daytime  than  we  can ;  but  if 
there  is  no  light  he  cannot  see  at  all.  Why  does  he 
iiide  'by  day,  you  will  ask,  in  the  barn  or  belfry,  or  in 
the  hollow  tree,  and  only  come  out  at  dusk  ? 

If  a  pickpocket  had  a  certain  mark  by  which  every 
one  knew  him  the  moment  he  appeared,  it  would  be 
easy  to  avoid  him,  and  he  would  probably  have  to  get 
his  living  by  honest  work;  the  owl  is  known  the  mo- 
ment he  is'  seen,  and  the  fuss  the  little  birds  make 
when  he  happens  to  appear  in  the  daytime  would  warn 
his  victims  and  keep  him  hungry  till  he  starved. 

No  one  who  has  seen  an  owl  surrounded  by  a  crowd 
of  furious  birds,  scolding  and  flying  excitedly  about, 
can  forget  the  scene.  It  seems  as  if  they  were  calling 
him  "  rascal,"  "  thief,"  and  "  murderer."  Sometimes  a 
cheerful  little  Chickadee,  looking  over  an  apple  tree, 
jnits  its  head  into  a  hollow  trunk,  and  instantly  his 
feathers  bristle,  and  he  calls  loudly  to  his  friends, 
"There's  an  owl  in  here,  there's  an  owl  in  here!" 


jwr  •:^».-: 


THE    OlFL. 


33 


Owl. 


They  answer  in  the  greatest  excitement,  and  all  the 
birds  round  about  come  to  peer  in  at  the  villain. 
You  can  imagine,  therefore,  that  the  owl  does  a  better 
business,  and  leads  a  more  peaceful  life,  if  he  puts  off 
his  tour  of  the  orchard  till  evening. 


'»'  ■9':i -i^-V 


34 


filKI)    WORLD. 


Hut  what  do  owls  find  in  the  twilight  when  the 
birds  are  asleep?  Have  you  ever  heard  a  mouse  at 
night  running  backward  and  forward  in  the  walls? 

Besides  the  mice  who  share  your  house  with  you, 
there  are  many  wild  mice  in  the  fields,  and  they  are 
most  active  at  night.  In  winter,  if  snow  falls  in  the 
night,  you  may  find  their  tracks  all  about  in  the  morn- 
ing. Sometimes  the  track  ends  abruptly,  there  are 
signs  of  a  scuffle,  and  i)erhaps  a  little  blood  mark  may 
be  seen  in  the  white  snow.  This  is  where  the  poor 
mouse  gave  a  pitiful  shriek  as  the  sharp  claws  of  an 
owl  pierced  his  back. 

Under  the  apple  tree,  in  whose  hollow  trunk  the 
owl  spends  the  day,  you  will  pick  up  curious  little 
bunches  —  pellets  they  are  called  —  of  fur,  and  on 
opening  one  of  them  you  will  find  the  skull  and  other 
bones  of  a  mouse  or  bird.  Instead  of  picking  the  flesh 
off  the  bones  as  a  hawk  would,  the  owl  crushes  the 
skull  and  large  bones,  and  swallows  his  victim  head  first ; 
then  in  his  stomach  the  indigestible  portions,  the  fur, 
feathers,  or  bones,  are  rolled  into  this  curious  pellet 
and  cast  forth. 

The  commonest  owl  near  cities  is  called  the 
Screech  Owl ;  he  is  not  larger  than  a  small  chicken, 
is  reddish  ijrav,  with  two  tufts  of  feathers  like  ears. 
His  note  is  a  mournful  but  gentle  wailing  sound,  and 
is  often    heard  on  moonlight  nights  in  the  autumn. 


THE    OIVL. 


35 


One  of  these  owls  spent  the  winter  once  in  the 
Washington  Klni,  and  many  j)eopIc  saw  the  little 
tenant  of  this  famous  tree  sitting  at  the  edge  of  his 
home  and  sending  out  his  mournful  "who.  hoo,  hoc. 
hoo"  over  the  Cambridge  Common. 

The  larger  owls  live  in  the  deep  woods,  and  their 
hooting  is  loud  and  often  terrifying  to  those  who  first 
hear  it.  In  the  frozen  north  lives  the  Snowy  Owl, 
whose  brownish  feathers  turn  almost  white  in  winter! 
On  the  western  plains  lives  a  curious  member  of  the 
family,  the  Burrowing  Owl.  His  home  is  a  burrow, 
often  the  deserted  home   of  some  prairie  dog. 

The  owl  has  long  been  much  abused  and  attacked 
for  its  sinful  manner  of  life.  It  is  only  lately  that 
people  have  discovered  how  much  good  most  owls  do. 
Many  owls  have  been  shot  and  their  stomachs  opened,' 
but  instead  of  small  birds  being  the  favorite  food,  the 
greater  part  was  found  to  consist  of  mice  and  insects, 
both  of  which  injure  the  farmer's  crops. 

We  are  sorry  that  the  owl  occasionally  kills  a  sonjr 
bn-d,  but  if  he  is  really  of  such  help  to  the  farmer, 
ought  we  not  to  protect  him,  and  when  we  hear  his 
trembling  voice  in  the  still  moonlight,  think  of  him 
not  so  much  as  a  midnight  robber  as  a  sort  of  police- 
man guarding  the  farms,  gardens,  and  fields .? 


II 


' 


Scarlet  Tmager. 

THE   SCARLET   TANAGER. 

THE  male  Tanager  gives  up  its  scarlet  color  when 
nesting  time  is  over,  but  wears  the  velvety  jet 
black  of  his  wings.  A  dull  olive  green  is  the  color 
of  the  female,  and  of  the  male  when  the  scarlet  is 
drojiped.     Its  song  resembles  that  of  the  Robin,  but 


is  not  so  free 


and 


clear. 


HFl 


The  Cedar  Bird 

THE   POLITEST  BIRD. 


\^E  can  all  tell  what  would  happen  if  we  should 

^  '     throw  a  piece  of  bread  into  the  street,  under 

the  trees  where  the  Sparrows  are  chattering.     What 


I 


38 


BIRD    WORLD. 


a  noisy  group  there  would  soon  be  about  the  bread ; 
and  if  some  lucky  fellow  should  fly  off  with  a  large 
crumb,  how  the  others  would  hurry  after,  and  leave 
him  no  peaceful  moment  in  which  to  eat  it. 

Country  boys  and  girls  know,  too,  how  very  ill- 
mannered  even  motherly  old  hens  will  be,  and  how 
undignified  they  will  look  if  you  throw  a  handful  of 
grain  into  their  midst. 

You  will  therefore  be  surprised,  I  feel  sure,  at  the 
story  I  am  going  to  tell  you  about  the  politest  bird  I 
know.  No  princess  in  a  fairy  tale  could  be  brought 
up  by  her  anxious  parents  to  have  better  manners 
than  this  handsome  bird. 

His  name  and  his  picture  you  will  find  on  the 
preceding  page,  and  some  of  you  who  live  among  the 
hills  where  the  red  cedars  stand  covered  all  winter 
with  spicy  smelling  berries,  will  know  from  his  name 
what  he  eats  in  winter  and  early  spring. 

When  you  hear  that  he  is  called  Cherry  Bird  as 
well,  you  will  all  know  what  he  eats  in  summer,  and  I 
think  you  will  wish  you  could  get  your  cherries  as 
easily  as  he  can  his. 

One  morning  in  August  a  gentleman  saw  several 
Cedar  Birds  fly  into  a  small  tree  on  which  bunches  of 
wild  cherries  were  hanging.  On  one  limb  he  saw 
two  birds  sitting  side  bv  side,  one  of  them  with  a 
cherry  in  his  beak. 


■^^^r^m^ 


THE   POLITEST  BIRD. 


39 


Did  he  gobble  it  down  as  fast  as  he  could,  or  did 
the  second  bird  rush  at  him  and  snatch  it  from  him  ? 

You  will  hardly  guess  what  happened.  The  bird 
who  had  the  cherry  hopped  along  the  limb  with  a 
motion  which  would  almost  do  for  a  bow,  and  offered 
the  cherry  to  the  second  bird.  This  one's  manners, 
however,  were  just  as  good,  and  he,  too,  hopped  back 
and  returned  the  cherry  to  the  first  bird. 

The  cherry  was  passed  in  this  way  from  one  to  the 
other  nearly  half  a  dozen  times,  each  bird  making  a 
hop  and  a  bow,  as  if  to  say,  "  I  cannot  think  of  eating 
it;  I  would  much  rather  that  you  took  it." 

We  must  not  expect  to  find  such  great  politeness 
as  these  Cedar  Birds  showed  common  among  birds; 
in  fact,  their  food  is  often  so  hard  to  obtain  that  we 
cannot  blame  a  hungry  bird  who  has  little  ones  to 
feed  for  snatching  it  as  quickly  as  he  can. 

If  there  are  no  tables  set  for  the  birds,  where  each 
can  find  his  food  at  his  own  place,  and  no  one  to  set 
them  an  example,  we  shall  hardly  expect  them  to  have 
good  table  manners.  We  can  remember  the  Cedar 
Birds,  however,  and  when  next  we  see  the  noisy 
Sparrows  we  will  beg  them  to  take  a  lesson  from  their 
politer  relatives. 


••l«m'i 


Downy  Woodpeck 

A   FAMILY   OF   BACKWOODSMEN. 

IN  the  great  forests  of  Maine  and  northern  New 
*  York  none  of  the  sounds  can  be  heard  which  are 
so  familiar  to  us  who  live  in  busy  towns  —  no  factory 
whistles,  no  bells,  no  trains  of  cars  with  their  noisy 


e^S^^S^^^S^^ 


•,^wmR/imf?si!:^Kn 


A   FAMILY  OF  BACKWOODSMEN. 


41 


engines.     The  stillness  is  broken  only  by  the  distant 
ring  of  the  wood-chopper's  axe. 

If  you  follow  the  sound,  you  may  come  upon  a 
strong,  broad-shouldered  man,  swinging  a  bright  axe 
and  covering  the  ground  around  the  foot  of  a  tree 
with  the  clean,  sweet-smelling  chips.  A  little  distance 
off  is  another  wood-chopper,  giving  such  blows  that 
you  may  sometimes  hear  him  half  a  mile  away.  He 
also  strews  chips  far  and  wide. 

The  tool  of  this  second  woodman  is  more  like  a 
chisel,  and  he  never  parts  with  it,  for  it  is  his  long, 
powerful  bill.  His  neck  is  tremendously  strong,  so 
that  by  drawing  back  his  head  he  can  strike  a  blow 
which  tears  off  great  sheets  of  decaying  bark,  or  even 
large  chips  of  sound  wood. 

This  wood-chopper,  or  woodpecker,  as  he  is  com- 
monly called,  is  the  largest  of  his  family,  and  is  only 
found  where  there  are  tall  trees  and  plenty  cf  them. 
Like  the  lumbermen,  he  is  found  only  in  the  wild, 
unsettled  parts  of  the  country,  and  when  the  forests 
are  cut  down  he  moves  on  to  fresh  woods. 


THE    DOWNY   WOODPECKER. 

There  are  plenty  of  trees,  as  you  know,  among 
farms  or  even  in  the  city  parks,  though  they  do  not 
form  dense  forests.     Here  the  smaller  members  of  the 


,:jjr-:y-'^f  ^Br^'^r' 


iT, 


42 


BIRD    WORLD. 


;1 
if 


.11 

f 


Woodpecker  Family,  one  of  whom  you  may  see  in  the 
colored  picture,  find  wood  enough  to  keep  them  well 
employed. 

They  visit  the  orchards  and  the  groves,  rapping  and 
chiseling  the  dead  or  dying  limbs.  But  why  are  they 
so  busy,  these  hewers  of  wood :  With  what  purpose 
do  they  cut  into  the  trees  or  tear  off  the  bark .?  If 
you  see  one  cutting  in  spring,  and  watch  closely,  you 
will  find  it  working  day  after  day  at  the  same  limb, 
and  cutting  into  it  a  round  hole,  which  finally  becomes 
so  deep  that  the  bird  disappears  inside,  coming  out 
now  and  then  with  chips,  or  flying  for  food  and  rest. 

This  hole  is  a  nest.  When  it  is  deep  enough,  the 
mother  lays  five  or  six  pure  white  eggs,  not  on  straw 
or  hair,  but  on  fine  chips  which  have  fallen  to  the 
bottom.  Here  the  young  are  hatched  and  fed.  In  a 
day  or  two  they  find  the  chips  a  rather  hard  seat,  and 
climb  by  their  feet  to  the  sides  of  the  hole,  till  they 
are  ready  to  peep  out  into  the  world  outside. 

Sometimes  in  the  autumn  you  will  see  a  wood- 
pecker again  drilling  a  hole,  this  time  for  his  winter 
retreat ;  for  the  most  of  these  birds  spend  the  winter 
where  they  were  born.  Now,  however,  the  birds  work 
alone,  for  they  have  lived  in  the  lonely  woods  so  much 
that  they  do  not  care  for  company,  and  each  bird 
keeps  pretty  much  by  himself  in  the  daytime,  and 
sleeps  in  his  own  home  by  night. 


A   FAMILY  OF  BACKWOODSMEN. 


43 


The  woodpecker  builds  his  house  with  his  bill, 
just  as  Abraham  Lincoln's  father  cut  the  logs  for 
his  house  with  his  sharp  axe.  Besides  this  very 
important  work,  the  woodpecker's  bill  is  used  in 
a  way  that  is  even  more  necessary.  By  its  help  he 
finds  food  for  himself,  his  wife,  and' his  children. 

When  we  hear  him  tapping  at  the  dead  limb,  he  is 
searching  for  insects,  grubs,  and  beetles,  that  live  in 
the  decayed  wood  ;  he  bores  into  the  wood  till  he 
reaches  them,  but  then  his  bill  cannot  open  wide 
enough  in  the  small  hole  to  seize  the  grub.  What 
shall  he  do }  He  has  not  gone  as  far  as  this  to  lose 
his  prize. 

His  tongue  is  as  well  suited  for  seizing  the  insect 
as  his  bill  was  for  finding  it.     It  is 
like  a  whaler's  harpoon,  and  though     ^==*=^=*^ 
he  keeps  it  in  his  bill  he  can  dart  it     Tongue onv„i,pecker 
out  to  twice  the  length  of  the  bill; 
and  not  only  is  It  barbed  to  seize  the  grub,  but  it  is 
coated  with  slime  so  that  any  little  flies  or  eggs  will 
be  sure  to  stick  to  it.     Thus,  when  he  has  found  his 
dinner  he  darts  out  his   tongue,  strikes  it  into  the 
unlucky  grub,  and  the  next  moment  has  despatched 
that,  and  thrust  it  out  for  another. 


44 


lilKD    WORLD. 


THE  FLICKER. 

The  commonest    woodpecker  is  in  several  ways  so 
different  from  the  rest  of  his  family  that  he  deserves 

special  mention.  He 
has  a  number  of 
names,  but  perhaps 
is  most  commonly 
called  the  Flicker, 
from  his  note,  and 
the  Golden-winged 
Woodpecker,  from 
the  golden  yellow 
of  the  under  side 
of  his  wings. 
He  is  a  gay  bird 
if  you  see  him  near.  He  has  a  red  band  on  his  neck, 
black  mustaches,  and  round,  black  dots  over  his  gray 
breast.  He  lives  more  commonly  among  farms  than 
in  the  deep  woods,  and  in  battle  he  would  be  no 
match  for  his  cousins  of  the  backwoods. 

Nor  could  the  Flicker  chop  into  the  trees  at  such  a 
rate  as  they,  for  his  bill  is  more  slender,  slightly 
curved,  and  not  so  square  at  the  tip.  In  fact,  to  get 
his  favorite  food  he  has  no  chopping  to  do.  When 
he  finds  an  ant-hill  he  stands  on  the  ground  and, 
darting  out  his  tongue,  with  accurate  aim  glues  one 
after  another  of  the  helpless  victims  to  its  tip. 


Fio.  4.  —  Flicker. 


^S'.«'J5i 


WSHF 


•m    iv-^--'i'/\,-.  :■ 


^^ET 


'■-.W,.>.*S' 


A   FAMILY  OF  BACKWOODSMEN. 


45 


The  little  Downy  Woodpecker  is  rarely  or  never 
seen  on  the  ground,  but  the  Flicker  spends  much  of 
his  time  there.  He  sits  differently,  too,  when  he  is 
on  a  tree;  not  along  it,  like  his  relatives,  but  across,  as 
most  birds  do.  If  you  were  to  consult  the  head  of  the 
family,  the  big,  black  woodpecker  of  the  north,  he 
might  shake  his  head  and  say,  "  I  am  afraid  Cousin 
Flicker  is  degenerating.  If  he  does  not  look  out 
and  mend  his  ways,  he  won't  be  a  woodpecker  at  all 
before  long." 

But  how  is  little  Downv  able  to  stand  a.-^  vou 
see  him  in  the  picture,  and  how  does  he  manage  to 
dodge  around  the  trunk  of  a  trce,  as  I  have  often  seen 
him  do-f" 

In  the  first  place,  his  tail  feathers:  are  very  stiff,  and 
end  in  such  sharp  points  that  by  pressing  them  cinse 
to  the  rough  bark  he  can  get  a  great  deal  of  support 
from  them.  You  will  hear  later  of  another  bird,  who 
uses  his  tail  to  climb  chimneys  with.  Then,  too,  his 
claws  are  arranged,  not  like  a  sparrow's,  three  in  front 
and  one  behind,  but  in  pairs,  two  in  front  and  two 
behind. 

One  of  the  hind  pair,  however,  can  be  moved  off 
to  the  side,  and  with  this,  if  he  is  suddenly  pursued, 
he  can  pull  himself  so  quickly  to  the  other  side  of 
the  tree  that  even  a  hawk  cannot  strike  him. 

There  are  many  other  interesting  things  to  learn 


;ia-  ' 

i    i 

- 

4J| 

KT  ^"Ki 

■'  ■  i-  ^"1 

46 


j^/iV/?    WORLD. 


about  this  Woodpecker  Family.  The  Flickers,  for 
instance,  bring  up  their  babies  on  a  strange  diet  and 
feed  them  in  a  remarkable  way.  First,  they  eat  che 
food  themselves  and  prepare  it  in  the  stomach  for  the 
tender  stomachs  of  the  little  ones.  Then,  when  they 
see  the  wide-yawning  beaks  of  their  little  nestlings, 
they  put  their  own  far  down  inside  them  and  pump 
uj)  the  soft  food  from  their  own  stomachs  to  give  it  to 
their  little  ones. 

None  of  the  woodpeckers,  as  I  have  said  before, 
are  sociable  birds.  They  do  not  feed  in  flocks,  though 
the  Flickers  do  get  together  a  little,  and  the  little 
Downy  is  often  found  in  winter  with  a  company  of 
Chickadees,  or  other  small  winter  birds. 

Many  of  the  larger  woodpeckers  are  downright 
savages,  preferring  the  wild  forests,  keeping  far  from 
men,  and  when  caught,  giving  fierce  blows  with  their 
powerful  bills,  and  refusing  to  be  tamed. 

A  famous  lover  of  American  birds,  Alexander  Wil- 
son, caught  a  southern  woodpecker  once,  called,  from 
his  pure  white  bill,  the  Ivory-billed.  He  took  it  home, 
and  as  he  went  throuijh  the  streets,  the  constant  cries 
of  the  bird  made  people  stop  and  stare  at  him.  He 
left  it  in  his  room,  but  when  he  returned,  after  an 
hour,  the  brave  bird  had  nearly  cut  a  hole  through  the 
window-sash,  and  would  in  a  few  minutes  have  escaped 
from  his  prison.     Wilson  then   tied  the  bird   to  his 


-■f^«p ^^«'5fBBSsgJ7myiii"-.i««  i3B''a)K:?jsTf^^''.~?««w;-.--w-! 


A   FAMILY  OF  JiACKWOODSMKX, 


47 


table  and  went  out  again,  only  to  find,  on  his  return, 
that  the  table  was  ruined  by  the  powerful  blows  of  the 
bill.  The  bird  refused  to  eat  and  at  last  died,  brave 
and  fierce  to  the  end. 


THE    SAPSUCKER,    OR    YELLOW-BELLIED    WOODPECKER. 

This  is  the  only  one  of  the  family  that  can  justly  be 
called  the  enemy 
of  the  farmer,  and 
examination  has 
proved  thajt  he 
does,    on     the 


'  %%?: v^-! ;  1 


'■k 


whole,  more  good  -^*7'|?.^ 
than  harm.  ^^ 

Figure  5  shows 
the  little  pits  he 
drills,  in  regular 
lines,  in  the  bark 
of  forest  trees  and 
sometimes  in 
apple  trees;  and 
when  the  pits  fill 
with  sap  he 
drinks  it  as  if  it 
were  nectar  itself. 


Fig. 


yellow-bellied  Woodpeckel". 

Harmful  in.sects  are  attracted  by 


5^fi!7^viS' 


48 


HIKl)    WON  I.  IK 


\\ 


!l 


I 
1 

1   \ 


this  sap,  when  it  runs,  and  the  number  that  are 
destroyed  by  the  birds  is  thought  to  balance  the  loss 
to  the  tree,  though  it  sometimes  happens  that  the 
tree  dies  in  a  year  or  two  from  being  so  bled  by  them. 

Those  of  you  who  have  seen  maple  sugar  made 
from  the  sap  of  the  sugar  maple  will  think  the  bird 
very  cunning  to  find  a  sugar  camp  for  his  own. 

Another  woodpecker  does  an  equally  curious  thing. 

I  was  riding  one  day  in  a  park  in  southern  California, 

and  a  tree  was  pointed  out  to  me  that  had  holes  as 

close  as  these  of  the  Sapsucker  filled  with  acorns.     A 

woodpecker  had  bored  the  holes  and  filled  them  for 

a  winter  store.     The  nuts  were  wedged  in   so  tightly 

it  would  not  have  been  c-c^^y  to  get  them  out.      In 

the  same  line,  but  showing  even  greater  intelligence, 

is  the  use  in   Mexico  of  a  hollow  stalk.     The  birds 

make  holes  and  press  acorns  through  them  in  autumn, 

so  that  they  drop  one  by  one  till  the  hollow  tube  is 

filled.     When  other  food  fails  the  woodpecker  draws 

out  his  acorns,  not  from  the  place  at  which  he  put 

them  in  but  from  the  floor  of  his  storehouse. 


I  \ 


A   SECOND  SPARROW   STUDY. 

'X'HIS  time  it  is  a  little  company  of  sparrows  on 

*      the  ground.     Here  we  have  all  the  ages  and 

varieties.     We  call  them  brown  birds;   but  see  the 

gray,  slate,  tan.  and  other  browns  almost  to  black. 

Trace  the  colors  in  wing  and  tail  feathers;  note 
the  shapes  and  sizes  of  patches.  Did  you  know  that 
the  wing  feathers  were  bird  finger  nails  numbered  in 
different  species  according  to  their  need  .!*  Pairs  of 
tail  feathers,  too,  have  their  convenient  length,  differ- 
ent in  sparrows,  swallows,  and  other  species.  Watch 
the  sparrows  as  they  rise  into  the  air;  some  birds 
which  fly  well  could  not  do  it  so  easily.  The  tail 
helps  to  tell  the  story  of  rising  and  falling. 

Get  the  wing  of  a  fowl  and  see  from  what  bones  the 
quills  grow  out  —  primary,  secondary,  and  coverts; 
that  is,  quills  of  the  hand,  quills  of  the  middle  joint, 
and  quills  of  the  upper  joint. 

The  cut  of  the  wings  and  tail  would  make  a  bird- 
study  all  by  itself;  we  can  begin  it  while  we  are 
learning  to  know  the  birds. 

The  size  of  the  bird  is  another  point  for  study;  we 
begin  it  when  two  or  more  birds  are  compared. 

By  this  time  you  have  gained  more  than  you  can 


t  ■ 


50 


B/A'J^    IVOK/.l' 


that  have  to   "^^\\^^  \1\^  ^^,^,1  that  yor    .na 
cameras  more  4"'^'\b-      ^^  »^«  ^"'^  ^^j',,       ,„a 

.,.u  hivf  be«'    '1  <*>  be  a  naturalist  l'U(    u  n. 

V^Z.  sec-  l.u.  .mcc.  and  that     ..1..,.^  ■   ■  on         , 

seen  but  yourself.  -,1       , 

U   is.L   fasluo.    tu   r.d   .at,U   with   en 

Span—,;  first,  fo,    com.nR   ,  ;  A"' '"^^  ' ' 

"  ,    .  .         ,      Hill  thi-  lirsi     'H '  did  I 

then  lor  thriving  so.     Bittheni.i 

„f  thrir  own  accord.  »,n.!.t  is  n...  trfau. 

air  iiKulc  their  voics  more  sha  p  tlian  -^ 

fi^of    the-    have    driven  av  it.  s     -, 

!™>,  "^'  'VI        -el    '    .  >-ven  'hat,  the     may  -  ot 

'"'       "         ,od.       On.      ,.,houl'knov  as  well  as 
have  mean,  to  d,       U"  _^^^         ,„. 

:e;/und;"n     En-    sh'..irro.  ways,  and  soon 

r^^:  them  all  b.u.U  ,:un.  "^^^  :Z:Z 
son  who  would  n  ,ss  the  act.  ...cheev.n:  ,t  ..rowmes 
wito  stay  when  .■    er  birds  ..re  gone. 


iish 

come 
it  our 
>.     It 


ft~ 


r  I 


! 


!i 


THE    SONG    SPARROW. 


I!  I 


THE  SONG  SPARROW  AND  THE  CHIPPING  SPARROW. 


SOME  birds  are  like  the  shyest  wild  flowers,  living 
far  from  people's  homes  and  very  hard  to  find. 
Others  are  like  the  buttercups  and  dandelions,  which 
grow  everywhere  on  our  lawns  and  in  city  parks.  I 
suppose  by  many  people  the  jolly  little  dandelions  are 
called  weeds.     One  bird  is  almost  like  a  weed. 

Though  he,  too,  lives  along  the  waysides  and  in 
the  parks  and  gardens,  no  one  would  compare  the 
Song  Sparrow  to  a  weed,  for  he  gives  much  pleasure  by 
singing  a  clear,  merry  song  as  soon  as  the  February 
snows  have  melted.  All  summer  he  sings,  and  on 
into  the  fall.  Even  in  the  winter,  on  warm  days,  he 
sometimes  shows  that  he  remembers  his  little  summer 
melody. 

Look  at  our  beautiful  representative  opposite,  as  he 
rests  on  the  big  dock  weed  over  the  water  and  pours 
out  his  song.  Would  you  know  that  he  was  a  spar- 
row if  you  had  no  one  to  help  you  .'* 

In  the  first  place,  he  is  about  the  size  of  an  English 
Sparrow,  though  more  slender,  and  his  colors  are 
a  plain  gray-brown.  But  you  have  learned  that  a 
female  English  Sparrow  is  also  gray  and  brown. 
That  is  true;  many  sparrows  have  these  colors,  but 


52 


BIRD    WORLD. 


the  gray  and  brown  of  the  Song  Sparrow  is  in  streaks 
or  lines,  not  in  unbroken  patches,  as  in  the  Enghsh 

Sparrow.  .,         i  i 

The  slender  figure,  the  long  tail,  and  a  general 
neat  look  will  help  you  to  tell  the  American  bird 
from  the  foreigner.  The  Song  Sparrow  is  shy,  and 
will  hide  in  the  nearest  bush,  while  you  all  know  we 
can  hardly  call  the  English  Sparrow  shy. 


i 


CHIPPING  SPARROW. 

Another  native  sparrow  is  the  Chipping  Sparrow. 
He  is  still  slimmer  than  the  Song  Sparro^N ,  and  \years 
a  cap  of  dull  reddish  brown. 

The  Song  Sparrow  builds  on  the  sT-ound,  often 
hiding  her  nest  under  a  tuft  of  grass  or  in  a  thicket. 
Chippy  builds  in  bushes  and  always  lines  her  nest 
with  hairs  from  a  horse's  mane  or  tail.  You  do  not 
see  vvhere  the  bird  gets  them  ?  She  hunts  along  the 
fence  or  posts,  where  a  horse  stands,  and  finds  them 
caught  on  some  crack  in  the  wood. 

You  learned  when  you  read  about  the  English 
Sparrow  that  the  male  and  female  diffx<.  in  looks, 
but  the  male  Song  Sparrows  and  Chipp  -:  Sparrows 
look  just  like  the  female.  It  is  only  whta  the  male 
flies  to  the  top  of  a  bush  or  to  the  limb  of  a  tree,  and 
raising  his  head  pours  out  a  song  from  his  little  throat. 


THE   SPARROW. 


53 


that  you  know  which  is  which.  Both  these  birds  are 
much  the  color  of  dry  leaves,  grass,  and  the  ground 
on  which  they  spend  their  lives.     Can  you  tell  why  t 

The  Chipping  Sparrow's  name  refers  to  his  song, 
which  sounds  like  the  syllable  chip  repeated  quickly, 
—  chip,  chip,  chip,  etc. 

These  two  native  sparrows  have  short,  thick  bills 
like  that  of  the  English  Sparrow,  but  I  think  they 
make  better  use  of  them  than  he  does.  If  you  could 
examine  the  bill  very  closely,  you  would  see  that, 
though  it  is  so  short  and  thick,  the  tip  is  quite  sharp 
and  delicate.  With  this  tip  the  sparrow  picks  up  seeds 
so  fine  that  you  could  hardly  see  them.  Remember 
that  their  eyes  are  not  only  sharp,  but  are  not  so  far 
from  the  ground  as  yours.  These  seeds  are  then 
crushed  in  their  strong  bills,  the  husk  rolled  out 
and  the  kernel  eaten.  All  over  the  ground  the  little 
sparrows  hunt,  and  many  a  weed  which  would  grow 
up  to  plague  the  farmer  is  destroyed  by  them.  Hun- 
dreds of  insects,  too,  —  moths,  beetles,  and  grubs,  — 
they  find  and  eat. 

Let'  us  record  in  our  notebooks  what  we  have 
learned  by  comparing  the  three  sparrows  we  have 
met,  —  the  English  Sparrow,  the  Song  Sparrow,  and 
the  Chipping  Sparrow. 


y 

II 


HOW  BIRDS  PASS  THE  NIGHT. 

YOU  must  <^ret  up  very  early  if  you  expect  to  find 
the  birds  still  asleep;  they  go  to  bed  as  soon  as 
it  is  dark,  and  have  had  their  first  breakfast  long 
before  vou  are  awake. 

No  one  need  call  them ;  the  first  faint  light  m  the 
east  finds  them  up,  ready  for  a  long  and  active  day. 

If  you  should  happen  to  go  out  before  the  birds  are 
awake,  or  should  startle  them  in  the  evening  afte.' 
they  have  gone  to  bed,  where  do  you  think  you  would 
find  them,  and  how  would  their  beds  look  ? 

Many  of  you,  I   have  no  doubt,  think  of  them  as 
sleepincrall  ni'.,dit  in  their  nests,  cuddling  close  to  each 
other,  and  warmed    and  protected   by  their  mother. 
It  is  true  that  for  two  or  three  weeks  of  their  lives 
young  nestlings  sleep  in  the  nests  or  holes  where  they 
have%een  hatched,  and  chicks  which  have  no  nests 
hide  their  downy  bodies  under  their  mother's  wings; 
but  this  lasts  but  a  short  time,  and  after  the  young 
birds  leave  the  nests,  at  the  age  of  two  or  three  weeks, 
they  never  again  sleep  in  a  bed. 

No  stretching  out  of  tired  limbs  on  comfortable 
mattresses,  no  soft  pillows  for  tired  heads,  no  tucking 
in,  and  no  one  to  say  "  Good  night."     All  these  com- 


HOW  BIRDS  PASS   THE  NIGHT. 


55 


forts  you  look  forward  to  when  bedtime  comes,  but 
how  would  you  fe^^l  to  hear  your  mother  say  instead, 
"  It  is  bedtime  now,  stand  on  one  leg  and  go  to 
sleep  ";  or  if  she  expected  you  to  hang  all  night  from 
a  crack  in  the  wall;  or,  worst  of  all,  if  your  bed  con- 
sisted of  a  pool  of  water,  on  which  you  were  peace- 
fully to  float  with  your  head  tucked  under  your  arm  ? 
Almost  all  the  singing  birds,  after  they  leave  the 
nest,  perch  on  a  twig  as  your  canary  does,  the  hind 
toe  bent  around  to  meet  the  front  toes,  the  feathers 
fluffed  out,  the  head  snugly  hidden  under  the  wing. 

Parrots  hang  themselves  up  at  night  by  their  beaks, 
and  woodpeckers  in  their  holes  and  Chimney  Swifts  in 
chimneys  hold  themselves  up  by  their  feet  and  their 
stiff  tail  feathers.  Hawks  and  owls  stand  upright 
while  they  sleep,  but  hens  and  turkeys  bend  their  feet 
so  that  their  breasts  rest  on  the  perch.  The  wading 
birds,  herons,  storks,  and  also  the  geese  draw  up  one 
foot,  hide  it  in  the  soft  feathers,  and  close  their  eyes. 

Their  balance  must  be  easier  to  keep  than  ours. 
There  are  many  things  besides  standing  on  one  foot, 
which  are  easier  for  birds  than  for  us,  and  positions 
which  they  take  easily  when  awake  naturally  suit 
them  best  for  sleeping.  If  you  or  I  coul(  float  as 
easily  as  a  duck,  and  if  we  wore  waterproof  down 
quilts,  a  night  on  an  icy  lake  might  seem  as  pleasant 
to  us  as  one  in  a  bed. 


THE  BLUE  JAY. 


lent 


! 


li 


Fig.  e.  —  Blue  Jay. 


iwiunardlyknow 
what  he  is. 

But  if  he  is  with 
two  or  three  jolly 
friends,  and  the  weather  is  pleasant,  he  fills  the  woods 
with  his  screams  and  calls.  They  are  not  sweet 
sounds,  but  are  not  unpleasant  to  hear,  particularly 
in  winter,  when  few  birds  are  here.  Some  are  like 
a   hawk's   cry,  and   some  like   an   ungreased  vvheel- 

barrow.  , 

While  the  Jay  is  making  these  sounds,  he  otten 
hops  up  the  tree,  from  one  branch  to  the  next,  or 
accompanies  his  cries  with  an  odd  motion  of  his 
wings  and  tail.     He  is  a  good  deal  of  a  clown,  and 


If! 


THE  BL  L  E  J  A  Y. 


57 


as  a  pet  amusing.  He  learns  to  speak  a  few  words, 
which  is  a  great  *  in  a  bird. 

It  is  not  safe  t.  >  e  valuables  about  where  he  can 
reach  them,  for  he  is  a  great  collector.  When  he  is 
free,  he  gathers  acorns  and  chestnuts  and  stores  them 
in  hollow  trees. 

The  Jay  has  without  doubt  planted  many  trees 
where  they  would  not  otherwise  have  been  found,  for 
he  drops  the  nuts  as  he  flies  off  with  them,  and  if 
they  fall  into  good  soil  the  Jay's  children's  children 
long  after  may  gather  fruit  from  the  trees  that  will 

spring  up. 

The  Jay's  neighbors  do  not  like  him  particularly, 
for  he  has  one  very  bad  habit.  He  cannot  resist  egg 
hunting.  But  for  this  he  might  not  be  regarded  with 
disfavor,  for  he  sometimes  renders  good  service.  In 
fact,  when  an  owl  comes  into  the  woods  the  Jay  is 
often  the  first  to  discover  him  and  announce  his 
presence  to  the  other  birds. 

The  Jay  is  closely  related  to  the  Crow  in  this  coun- 
try, and  in  Europe  to  the  jackdaw  and  magpi'-  The 
whole  family  are  talkative,  bustling  birds,  very  'ight- 
fingered  we  should  call  them  if  they  had  fingers,  but 
for  all  that  they  are  amusing,  and  we  should  miss 
them  if  they  were  gone. 


li 


i    I 


w 


BIRD   HOMES. 

E  pity  any  boy  who  has  no  home ;  kind  people 
give  money  to  provide  a  place  where  he  can 
have  a  bed  at  night,  a  roof  over  his  head,  fire  and  food. 
Animals  rarely  have  homes,  and  yet  no  one  pities 
them.  They  have  their  hair,  fur,  or  shell  covering  to 
keep  off  rain;  they  sleep  on  the  ground  without 
catching  cold,  so  that  they  really  have  no  need  of  a 
home  such  as  we  are  accustomed  to. 

Certain  animals,  as  you  probably  are  already  think 
ing,  do  have  caves,  dens,  or  burrows  in  which  they 
spend  the  night,  the  cold  or  wet  weather,  or  to  which 
they  flee  for  safety.  Most  of  these  animals,  you  will 
see,  are  intelb'gent ;  in  fact,  the  more  wisdom  the 
animal  has  learned  in  Nature's  great  school,  the  more 
likely  he  is  to  have  a  place  which  is  his  own, 

Ijirds,  you  will  say,  are  intelligent,  and  yet  they 
spend  the  night  or  rainy  weather  in  thick  trees  and 
have  no  homes. 

This  is  true  of  m.  st  of  them,  during  most  of  their 
lives,  and  from  what  you  know  of  feathers,  you  can 
yourselves  tell  why  they  do  not  need  roofs  or  warmth.. 
But  imagine  a  bird  without  feathers.     He  would  need 
warmth   and  shelter  surely.     Then  think  when  it  is 


BIRD   HOMES. 


59 


that  a  bird  lacks  feathers.  In  the  moulting  season  ? 
Hardly  ;  few  fall  at  a  time,  so  that  he  is  never  wholly 
without  covering.  When  the  bird  leaves  the  shell  "i 
That  is  the  time,  surely,  when  he  needs  protection, 
and  the  wise  and  loving  bird-mother  goes  to  work,  long 
before  even  her  eggs  are  laid,  to  build  the  home  for  her 
young.  This  we  call  a  nest ;  it  is  really  a  nursery,  is 
it  not,  a  home,  not  for  the  parents,  but  for  the  young 
birds  ? 


THE  NEST   AS  AN  OVEN. 

The  nest  is  first  used  as  an  oven.  What  does  the 
bird  bake  in  this  oven?  Where  does  she  get  the 
heat  ?  The  last  question  is  the  easier  and  you  can 
answer  it  yourself  by  holding  your  pussy  cat  against 
your  cheek.  Where  does  the  warmth  come  from.!* 
Not  all  from  the  fur,  but  from  the  warm  blood  running 
through  her  veins. 

So  the  bird's  little  body  is  warm,  warmer  even  than 
your  cat's.  To  keep  the  warmth  of  the  fire  an  oven  is 
made  with  walls  and  a  door ;  so  a  nest  is  often  built 
with  walls ;  the  mother  herself  is  the  door.  When 
she  snuggles  down  on  the  eggs  ,ery  little  warmth  can 

escape. 

But  what  is  she  baking?  The  eggs  themselves. 
As  the  little  seeds  grow  or  develop  when  the  earth  is 


6o 


HIKD    nOKI.D. 


Ill 

i 

8 


warm, so  the  little  bodies  of  the  birds  grower  develop 
in  the  warm  eggs,  till  what  looked  like  nothing  but 
yellow  and  white  liquid  hatches  out  a  little  bird  with 
claws,  beak,  and  the  beginnings  of  feathers. 

All  this  the  bird  feels,  even  if  she  does  not  think  it 
as  we  think  thoughts,  so  that  when  she  is  mated  and 
her  mate  and  she  have  chosen  the  best  spot  for  their 
nest,  she  works  very  busily  at  building,  or  weaving,  or 


Fig.  7.  —  Bird  Homes. 

carpentering,  whatever  her  nature  tells  her  she  can  do 
best,  and  before  the  eggs  are  ready  she  has  a  nest 
in  which  to  lay  them.  (The  double  nest  in  the  pic- 
ture   is  quite  a  curiosity.     It  belonged  to  Chipping 

Sparrows.) 

I  have  spoken  as  if  all  birds  felt   alike  and  built 
nests  which   all   served   as  ovens  and  as  homes  for 


■^rgswismi^^w^:}!- 


BIND    HOMES. 


6l 


the  young.  No  one,  till  he  reads  or  learns  a  great 
deal  about  birds,  can  imagine  what  an  extraordinary 
variety  of  nests  there  are. 

In  the  first  place,  a  large  number  of  the  water  birds, 
ducks,  and  divers,  and  all  the  family  to  which  our  hen 
belongs,  do  not  need  a  nest  in  which  the  young  shall 
stay.  For  their  young  come  out  of  the  shell  warmly 
clothed  in  such  thick  down,  that  they  can  either 
paddle  right  off  in  the  cool  water  or  run  about  on  the 
land ;  we  call  them  chicks,  and  the  others,  who  are 
naked  and  helpless  when  hatched,  we  call  nestlings. 
At  night  their  mother's  feathers  are  their  beds;  no 
need  of  a  nursery  for  them. 

The  eggs  have  to  be  baked,  however,  so  that  often 
the  nests  of  such  birds  are  warm  and  snug,  especially 
if  they  are  in  damp  or  cold  places.  If  the  eggs  are 
laid  in  sunnv  places,  on  the  hot  sea  sand  or  rocks,  for 
instance,  there  is  no  need  of  walls,  and  in  such  places 
the  nest  hardly  deserves  the  name;  it  is  really  noth- 
ing but  a  hollow  in  the  sand  or  a  shelf  on  th/i  rocks. 

Many  gulls  lay  their  eggs  in  this  careless  way. 
There  are  certain  cunning  animals  who  like  raw  eggs 
very  much,  ad  they  come  prowling  about,  break  the 
shells,  and  later  eat  young  birds  as  well. 

Certain  birds,  to  escape  these  four-legged  thieves, 
have  moved  up  a  story  and  built  platforms  in  the 
trees.     These  had  to  be  pretty  strong,  however,  for 


Z«ai''K'-^'.V-M*3S5ar=lr 


62 


lURD    WORLD. 


the  mother  bird  may  be  large,  as  in  the  case  of  the 
heron,  so  that  the  platform  must  hold  her  as  well  as 
the  eggs.  Here  is  real  building  to  be  done  ;  sticks  to 
be  laid  in  a  more  or  less  clever  fashion.  In  a  lati  i 
lesson  we  shall  see  more  of  the  ways  of  bird 
builders. 


KiG.  S.  -„,  Kgg  of  Canada  Jay;  ^  of  Crow  UUckb.r.l:  .,  "f  W.kkI pecker. 


I 


>"'" 


THE  KINGBIRD. 


I N  Wilson's  time,  Tyrant  Flycatcher  was  the  name 
I  by  which  this  bird  was  commonly  known,  and  this 
name,  though  clumsier,  really  tells  more  about  his 
nature  than  Kingbird. 
A  tyrant  in  Greece 
was  a  man  who  drove 
out  the  reigning  king 
or  rightful  ruler.  The 
eagle  has  long  been 
called  the  King  of 
Birds,  though  by  this 
nothing  more  was 
meant  than  r'^^  he 
was  am.:,:  t'    ih-'^  most 


Fig.  9.  —  Kingbird 


powerful  and  majestic 

birds.    Even  the  eagle, 

however,  is  attacked  and  driven  off  by  this  Tyrant 

Flycatcher. 

Eagles  are  scarce  to-day,  and  a  battle  between  the 
two  birds  is  a  rare  sight,  but  it  is  a  common  sight  to 
see  the  Kingbird  attack  and  drive  off  a  Crow— a  bird 
nearly  three  times  as  large  as  himself. 

Those  of  you  that  have  read  or  heard  about  the 


64 


BIRD    WORLD. 


\\ 


Spanish  Armada  remember  how  the  little  English 
ships  outsailed  the  large,  unwieldy  Spanish  vessels, 
ran  close  under  their  guns,  fired,  and  were  off  again 
before  the  Spanish  ships  could  return  the  fire  ;  so  the 
Kip<?bird,  mounting  above  the  Crow,  darts  upon  him 
froui' above  and  flies  off  before  the  clumsy  Crow  can 

strike  him. 

Occasionally  the  Kingbird  actually  settles  upon  the 
Crow's  head  or  back,  and  rides  some  distance  before 
the  Crow  can  shake  him  off.  When  you  learn  that 
the  Kingbird  attacks  all  birds,  great  and  small,  who 
come  near  him,  and  with  a  harsh  twitter  drives  them 
away,  you  will  fancy  him  a  very  unpleasant  bird  to 
have  about.  But  you  will  have  a  greater  respect  for 
him  when  you  learn  that  it  is  only  in  the  breed'ng 
season  that  the  Kingbird  loses  his  temper  so  easily, 
and  it  is  but  fair  to  say  that  it  is  only  birds  that 
wander  into  the  neighborhood  of  his  wife  and  nest 
that  he  drives  away  so  rudely. 

Flycatcher  was  the  name  by  which  he  was  known, 
for  outside  the  swallows  we  have  no  more  skilful  fly- 
catcher. From  the  wire  on  which  he  is  sitting,  the 
post,  or  the  mullein  stalk,  he  flies  out  a  short  distance, 
makes  a  sweep,  and  returns  to  his  perch.  If  you  are 
near  him,  you  hear  at  some  time  during  his  short  jour- 
ney a  sharp  click,  like  the  snapping  of  a  watch  case. 
That  sourd  means  death  to  some  winged  insect.    All 


I.  n 


A    PAIR   OF    KINGBIRDS. 


¥^  w».irt  ^*fr*Mi^ 


I 


i 


i^.^. 


THE   KINGBIRD. 


65 


clay  long  the  Kingbird  sits  in  some  place  where  he 
can  watch  in  the  air  about  him,  and  all  day  long  his 
bill  closes  over  flies,  gnats,  and  beetles. 

Many,  if  not  most,  of  the  insects  which  he  seizes  are 
at  sorhe  time  of  their  lives  harmful  to  the  farmer,  so 
that  the  Kingbird's  work  in  feeding  himself  and  his 
children  destroys  thousands  of  the  farmer's  enemies. 

A  Kingbird's  nest  is  very  easily  found.  You  can 
imagine  that  a  bird  that  guards  his  home  so  thor- 
oughly will  take  no  great  pains  to  conceal  it.  It  is  a 
rather  bulky  nest,  often  placed  in  apple  trees,  and 
looks  very  warm  and  comfortable.  The  outside  is 
very  apt  to  be  ornamented  with  clusters  of  withered 
flowers  of  certain  plants,  and  often  long  strings  of 
pack  thread  hang  from  the  nest.  Inside,  the  eggs 
and  the  young  rest  on  horsehair. 

The  Kingbird's  colors  are  brown  and  white,  with 
:i  dark,  almost  black,  head  and  tail.  Curiously  enough, 
a  few  feathers  on  the  head  are  colored  bright  scarlet, 
hut  so  few  are  the  feathers  and  so  well  concealed,  as 
a  rule,  that  you  would  see  many  Kingbirds  very  near 
\()u  without  ever  seeing  this  red  patch. 

When  the  bird  is  angry,  however,  or  excited,  he 
can,  like  most  fly-catchers,  lift  slightly  the  feathers  of 
ills  head,  so  that  probably  many  of  the  birds  he  has 
based  have  seen  more  of  the  red  than  you  have. 

The  female  Kingbird  lacks  these  red  feathers,  but. 


m. 


-0  ^t**Km~ 


W^ 


66 


B//iD    JVOA'Ln. 


VJ/J 


unlike  the  female  Bluebird  ."  1  Oriole,  looks  otherwise 
exactly  like  the  male.  See  whether  this  was  true  of 
the  other  fly-catchers  of  which  you  have  read. 

When  the  Kingbird's  young  have  left  the  nest,  and 
no  longer  need  "protection,  the  family  stay  in  the 
north  a  very  short  time.  By  September  they  have 
left  New  England,  and  in  the  winter  are  in  Cen- 
tral America.  Who  of  you  know  why  they  should 
leave  a  country  where  there  are  winter  frosts  ?  Is  it 
because  they  themselves  are  afraid  of  cold  ? 

I  think  you  would  all  have  liked  for  once  to  see  the 
Kingbird  get  the  worst  of  a  battle,  which  Wilson  long 
ago^observed.     We  all  like  to  see  any  one  who  is 
a  little  inclined  to  bully  others  given  a  lesson.     This 
Kingbird  attacked  a  Red-headed  Woodpecker  on  a 
fence  rail.     Every  time  he  swept  down  expecting  to 
give  the  woodpecker  a  smart  rap  on  the  head,  the 
woodpecker   pulled  with  his   third   toe  and   slipped 
around  the  rail,  so  that  the   Kingbird  struck  only  the 
empty  air.     The  woodpecker  saved    himself  in  this 
way  so  many  times  that  it  seemed  to  Mr.  Wilson  that 
he  was  enjoying  the  game.     It  would  not  be  strange, 
from  what  \ve  know  of  the  woodpecker,  if  he  enjoyed 
a  joke.     We  hardly  expect  the  Kingbird  to  do  so. 
All  kinds  of  birds  have  their  place,  and  we  honor  this 
one  because  he  is  brave  and  useful. 


^:ivrit   '-w 


ff^^ 


LOUISIANA    WATER    THRUSHES, 


-^r— ■;■•.•  .--  ~irr.-»^o/A;--t?f:i^J«r.''«a!!f:...i 


THE  WARBLERS. 

YOU  have  already  heard  about  the  Owls  and  the 
Woodpeckers,  two  families,  the  members  of 
which  are  easy  to  recognize.  The  Warblers  are 
another  large  Bird  World  family.  They  are  not 
named,  as  you  might  well  suppose,  from  their  fine 
voices,  for  few  of  them  can  sing  as  well  even  as  your 
old  friend  the  Robin.  But,  like  many  birds  who  lack 
fine  voices,  the  Warblers  make  up  for  their  loss  by 
fine  feathers  and  a  very  dainty  appearance.  Yellow, 
orange,  and  blue  are  very  common  colors  among 
them,  and  they  are  nearly  all  small,  neat-looking 
birds.  The  Ovenbird,  which  gets  its  name  from  its 
oven-shaped  nest,  is  a  Warbler,  and  its  cousins,  the 
Water  Thrushes,  which  you  see  on  the  opposite  page, 
lK4ong,  of  course,  to  the  same  family.  You  will  find 
the  pictures  of  three  other  Warblers  in  this  book ; 
two  of  them  are  the  Redstart  and  the  Summer  Yellow- 
bird.     Can  you  find  the  third.? 


11! 


Hi 


ii 


A  CLEVER  WREN. 

WHEN  a  pair  of  House  Wrens  decide  that  they 
want  to  build  their  nest  in  a  certain  place,  it 
takes  a  good  deal  to  prevent  them  from  doing  so. 
Sometimes  several  birds,  who  build  in  similar  situa- 
tions, all  want  one  particular  spot,  — a  knot  hole  in 
a  tree  or  a  bird  box.  Bluebirds,  White-bellied  Swal- 
lows and  House  Wrens  often  struggle  violently  m 
nesting  time,  and,  as  in  other  struggles,  it  is  not 
always  the  largest  bird  that  wins. 

A  gentleman  once  saw  a  pair  of  wrens  outwit  some 
swallows  in  the  following  manner.  There  had  been  a 
loner  struggle  over  a  box,  built  on  the  house,  with  the 
usual  round  hole  for  an  entrance.  The  wrens  had 
pulled  twigs  into  the  box.  The  swallows  had 
promptly  pulled  them  out.  The  scolding  of  the 
wrens  and  the  sharp  twitter  of  the  swallows  were 
heard  all  day  about  the  box. 

One  morninfi  the  wren  was  seen  hauling  along  an 
unusuallv  stout  twig,  as  thick  as  a  kad  pencil.  It 
was  too  heavy  to  carry  strai-ht  to  the  box,  but  he 
manacred  to  get  it  into  the  lower  branches  of  a  pear 
tree.  Tnd  finally  up  t  >  the  box.  Here  he  was  met  by 
the  she-bird,  and  t.^gether  they  pulled  one  end  mto 


■  .*;  «*1iita' 


^    CLEVER    WKEN. 


69 


the  hole,  and  there  they  fa.^tened  it,  so  that  it  blocked 
the  entrance.  When  the  swallows  returned,  they 
could  not  squeeze  past  it.  They  tried  to  pull  it  out, 
but  it  had  evidently  been  secured  inside.  The  little 
wrens  could  push  past  easily ;  and  having  now  the 
field  to  themselves,  raised  their  brood  in  peace. 

All  day  long  the  wren  mother  goes  backwards  and 
forwards  bringing  flies  and  insects  or  whatever  food 
she  can  find.  A  lover  of  birds  once  .vatchec'  this 
bird,  and  saw  her  go  278  times  in  a  day. 

A  number  of  wrens'  nests  are  ur  t^r'*  One 
wonders  whether  they  are  built  to  take  .  hige  in 
during  severe  weather. 

AUDUBON  AND  THE  HOUSE  WREN. 

A  Wren  lived  just  outside  Audubon's  window,  and 
amused  him  with  his  bright  song.  "  Having  procured 
some  flies  and  spiders,"  says  Audubon,  "  I  now  and 
then  threw  some  of  them  towards  him,  when  he  would 
seize  them  with  great  alacrity,  eat  some  himself,  and 
carry  the  rest  to  his  mate.  In  this  manner  he  became 
daily  more  acquainted  with  u. ,  entered  the  room,  and 
once  or  twice  sang  while  there.  One  morning,  sud- 
denly closing  the  window,  I  easily  caught  him  an-^ 
held  him  in  my  hand,  and  finished  his  likencL-s,  after 
wliich  I  restored  him  to  liberty." 


~»-iT^:  ■  '^i5fl;  ,*?««;-. 


'■■>•• 


hi 


^1   !!1 


Y 


THE  WREN. 

()U  have  all  laughed  at  the  old  vv 


om 


an  who  lived 
-      Tn  a'shoe!  but"to  a  House  Wren  this  would  not 
seem  so  strange  a  home.     Let  me  tell  you  a  few  of 
the  odd  nesting  places  this  bird  has  chosen. 

Generally  she  builds  in  a  hole  in  a  tree  (  r  m  a  bird 
box,  but  almost  anything  which  is  hollow  inside  seems 
to  do.  One  nest  tha-  I  saw  was  in  the  broken  end  of 
a  waterspout.  Instead  of  water  coming  out  of  it,  the 
little  wrens  slipped  in  and  out,  carrymg  sticks  and 

straws  for  a  nest. 

Another  bird  thought  the  inside  of  an  awning 
would  make  a  f^ne  home,  but  when  the  middle  of  the 
day  came,  the  awning  had  to  come  down  to  shade  the 
windows,  and  all  ihe  rubbish  rolled  out.  The  next 
morning  the  bird  was  up  early,  and  before  noon  had 
collected  another  mass  of  sticks.  Day  after  day  the 
wren  kept  up  the  attempt,  declining  to  make  use  ot 
a  box  which  was  nailed  up  near  by. 

Perhaps  the  strangest  story  comes  from  Washing- 
ton. A  workman  hung  his  coat  up  for  a  little  while, 
and  vhen  he  took  it  down  and  put  his  hand  in  the 
pocket  be  vvrs  astonished  to  find  sticks  and  feathers 
in  it  and  r%cn  more  so  when  a  wren  appeared  near 


^kv-  >i 


THE    WREN. 


71 


by  and  scolded  him 
furiously  for  presum- 
inir  to  wear  his  own 
coat. 

He  was  a  kind- 
hearted  man  and  would 
gladly  have  lent  the 
wren  his  coat  pocket 
if  he  had  been  able  to 
do  without  it ;  how- 
ever, it  came  out  all 
right,  for  he  hung  up 
an  old  coat  instead, 
and  the  happy  birds 
laid  their  eggs  and 
hatched  them  in  the 
place  of  their  own 
choosing. 

House  Wrens  and 
cats  are  great  enemies. 
The  moment  the  little 
bird  spies  the  cat 
prowling  about,  she 
chatters  and  scolds,  so  that  all  the  neighboring  birds 
know  what  the  trouble  is  about.  I  am  afraid  Pussy 
has  s:iven  the  wren  srood  cause  now  and  then  to  fear 
and  dislike  her. 


Kii;.  10.  —  Long-billed  Marsh  Wren. 


MICROCOPY   RESOIUTION   TEST  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0 


I.I 


1.25 


1 45 


3.6 
4.0 


1.4 


2.5 
2.2 


2.0 
1.8 

1.6 


^  APPLIED  \M/\GE    Inc 

^^  1653   East   Main   Street 

S^^  Rochester.    New   York  14609        US* 

'■aa  (716)    «82  -  0300  -  Phone 

^=  (716)    288   -  5989  -  Fax 


72 


BIRD    WORLD. 


Our  wren  is  a  cousin  of  Jenny  Wren,  the  favorite 
of  all  English  children.  Jenny  is  a  smaller  bird,  and 
she  stays  in  England  all  the  year,  while  our  wren 
leaves  us  in  the  fall  for  the  south,  where  she  can  find 
the  insects  which  she  eats. 

Like  the  swallow  and  the  Bluebird,  the  wren  seems 
glad  to  make  his  home  near  the  homes  of  people,  and 
no  one  has  ever  accused  him  of  doing  anything  but 
good  to  the  farmer  or  gardener. 

To  find  the  birds  of  the  picture,  — the  Long-billed 
Marsh  Wrens,  — we  must  go  to  some  soft,  wet  place, 
which  in  early  spring  may  require  the  use  of  high 
rubber  boots.  These  birds  are  near  cousins  of  the 
House  Wren,  but  choose  to  live  among  the  cat-tails. 
They  have  learned  to  weave,  and  instead  of  nesting 
in  holes  or  boxes  they  make  their  homes  of  rushes. 
Regular  basket-work  it  is,  and  the  almost  globular 
nests  hung  in  the  reeds  may  hold  eight  or  nme 
chocolate  eggs. 


|«pr™^r- 


AT   THE  BATH. 


If  AVE  you  ever  watched  a  canary  going  through 
*  *  its  morning  bath?  The  thoroughness  of  the 
cleansing  is  only  matched  by  the  bird's  enjoyment  of 
it.  But  there  is  as  much  more  pleasure  in  seeing  a 
free  bird  go  through  its  daily  wetting  and  drying  and 
preening  as  there  is  in  every  other  free  act  of  a  free 
bird. 

Our  little  street  gamins,  English  Sparrows,  choos- 
ing a  mud  puddle  rather  than  go  a  little  out  of  town 
for  a  clean  pool,  are  not  worthy  to  represent  the  birds 
of  dainty  ways. 

One  of  my  pleasant  bird  memories  is  of  a  little 
stream,  hardly  more  than  a  handbreadth  wide,  flowing 
down  a  hill  slope,  from  a  spring  in  the  neighborhood 
of  Saratoga,  and  making  a  little  nest  in  the  hollow  of 
a  rock.  I  could  almost  have  enclosed  the  brooklet 
with  my  arms  and  measured  its  depth  with  my  lead 
pencil ;  but  for  pretty  sentiment,  and  the  pleasure  it 
gave  to  the  comers  and  goers  at  Elim,  the  summer 
cottage  of  my  friend,  it  will  "go  on  forever."  I  could 
fancy  the  birds  saw  from  afar  that  single  bright  spot 
on  the  steep  hill  —  a  jewel,  dropped  by  a  princess 
of  another  world,  with  a  ribbon  on  either  side. 


Miii 


74 


BIRD    WORLD. 


1 


The  birds  did  not  come  to  it  as  early  in  the  morn- 
ing as  I  should  have  expected  ;  perhaps  they  liked  to 
wait  till  the  water  should  be  wurmed  a  little,  or  per- 
haps in  Bird  World  a  bath  after  eating  is  not  thought 
to  be  unhealthy.  However  that  may  be,  from  eight 
o'clock,  in  rapid  turn,  in  ones,  twos,  seldom  more  than 
threes,  they  kept  the  4ittle  "  Bath  "  in  constant  use  till 
evening  twilight. 

Such  water  lovers  some  of  them  were !  They  made 
it  a  shower  bath  by  sending  the  splashes  high  over 
their  heads.  They  shook  each  feather  in  the  water 
for  wetness  and  out  of  it  for  dryness.  So  clear  was 
the  pure  spring  water,  that  it  seemed  like  bathmg  m 

a  mirror.  ,    .    r 

Some  of  the  birds  would  stop  and  preen  their  feath- 
ers before  they  left  the  spot,  but  others  would  go  to 
the  trees  to  complete  their  dainty  toilets.  Boys  and 
girls  who  think  it  a  burden  to  keep  their  hair  m 
proper  fashion  should  take  a  lesson  from  the  birds. 
Feathers  have  their  price  in  care^taking  as  well  as 
other  beautiful  apparel. 

It  is  not  probably  true  that  birds  are  afraid  of  cold 
water.  Tree  Sparrows  will  spend  from  three  to  five 
minutes,  it  is  said,  in  water  that  flows  directly  from 
melting  snow,  acting  all  the  while  as  if  the  fluttering 
of  their  wings  and  tails  was  perfect  glee. 


%^ia«f«?gKSiPBSsrffii4ifcjcr3\,x '^^r^j^ 


mmmm 


wmmmmmmmmm 


THE    CATBIRD.   • 

He  sits  on  a  bra'ich  of  yon  blossoming  tree, 

This  mad-cnp  cousin  of  Robin  and  Tlirush, 
And  sings  without  ceasing  the  whole  morning  long  ; 

Now  wild,  now  tender,  the  wayward  song 
That  Hows  from  his  soft,  gray,  fluttering  throat ;     • 

But  often  he  stops  in  his  sweetest  note. 
And  shaking  a  flower  from  the  blossoming  bough, 
Drawls  out,  "  Mi-eu,  mi-ow !  " 

Edith  M.  Thomas. 

LJOW  often  it  happens  that  people  are  known  by 
A  *  their  least  agreeable  trait.  The  harsh  catcall, 
"Mieu,  miow! "  is  the  least  musical  of  the  many  notes 
the  Catbird  utters.  By  his  own  song  he  is  worthy  a 
place  with  singers  of  highest  rank.  It  is  this  that 
exasperates  us  so;  but  is  it  so  much  more  strange 
that  he  does  not  always  employ  his  best  powers  than 
that  we  do  not  live  up  to  our  best  all  the  time .'' 

The  Catbird  is  the  Mocking  Bird  of  the  north. 
May  and  June  are  the  months  when  his  song  seems 
to  come  from  the  heart.  Later  in  the  season  he 
amuses  himself  with  a  variety  of  vocal  entertain- 
ments. 

If  you  can  read  into  his  little  picture,  —  slate  color 
for  the  upper  parts,  lighter  slate  and  gray  for  under 


I  ??:i^v 


■  •^'-mm'.Mii"JA%i: 


)  w 


76 


BIRD    WORLD. 


parts,  and  black  for  a  crown,  and  a  tail  that  the  owner 
is  continually  jerking,  — you  may  surprise  yourself 
by  discovering  the  bird  some  day,  for  he  is  by  no 
means  unfamiliar  with  the  thickets  around  village 
homes.  If  you  should  ttiink  you  had  done  so,  make 
quite  sure  by  looking  for  a  reddish  patch  on  the 
under  side  of  the  tail,  and  a  black  bill. 

It  is  said  that  a  cat  is  fonder  of  places  than  of 
persons.  Not  so  c  ar  little  Catbird,  as  a  story  told  by 
Miss  Merriam  has  shown  us.  It  is  of  a  gentle  old 
lady,  who  lived  in  a  cottage  behind  an  old-fashioned 
garden,  whose  rose-covered  trellises,  lilacs,  and  other 
shrubs  and  tre'  s  made  it  a  happy  spot  for  a  resting 
place  or  a  summer  home  both  for  birds  and  people. 

The  Catbird  was  the  ''comrade  and  favorite  "  of  the 
owner  of  the  cottage,  who  loved  all  birds  and  flowers. 
The  bird  would  call  for  her  in  the  morning,  till  she 
came  to  answer  him  with  a  whistle ;  then  he  would 
be  satisfied,  and  would  find  a  perch  and  pour  out  his 
morning  song.  This  would  be  repeated  many  times 
a  day  in  the  little  rests  he  took  from  his  domestic 

duties. 

It  was  plain  that  the  bird  was  fond  of  her  society, 
for  when  it  happened  one  summer  that  the  lady  was 
away  from  home  when  he  came  north,  and  the  place 
looked  deserted,  he  found  another  place  in  which 
to  build  his  nest.     When  the  old  lady  returned,  she 


■^^>^^:^m^''^^^'''^:mm-wfm^ 


i^ii'j. 


1^^^^ 


THE    CATBIRD. 


77 


missed  her  pet  of  many  years,  but  as  summer  went 
on,  was  sure  that  it  was  he  who  sometimes  appeared 
and  sung  to  her  in  the  garden  at  sunset. 

All  the  bird  students  agree  that  the  Catbird  loves 
to  have  a  listener. 

"  Come  forth  !  "  my  Catbird  calls  to  me, 
"  And  hear  me  sing  my  cavatina  "  — 


Lowell  writes,  and  there  are  evil-minded  critics  who, 
therefore,  blame  the  bird  for  vanity ;  but  let  us  agree 
with  those  who  love  the  merry  song  and  the  good- 
natured  but  capricious  little  singer. 

This  is  one  of  the  birds  who  has  been  so  often  on 
trial  for  his  life,  because  his  ways  have  been  so  little 


f^^I 


'm^'^"^ 


78 


BIRD    WORLD. 


known.  Such  an  individual  should  have  cuo  of  the 
best  of  lawyers  to  plead  his  case.  Several  have 
volunteered  their  services,  and  Mr.  Nehrling's  testi- 
mony rests  on  special  study.  He  says  that  the  bird's 
usefulness  as  an  insect  destroyer  is  so  great  that  the 
food  it  steals  is  of  little  *  >iportance,  and  that  "for 
every  cherry  it  takes,  it  c       a  thousand  insects." 


TO  A  SKYLARK. 

JOYOUS  as  the  morning, 
Thou  art  laughing  and  scorning  , 
Thou  hast  a  nest  for  thy  love  and  thy  rest. 

Happy,  happy  liver. 
With  a  soul  as  strong  as  a  mountain  river, 
Pouring  out  praise  to  the  Almighty  Giver, 
Joy  and  jollity  be  with  us  both  ! 
Alas  !  my  journey,  rugged  and  uneven, 
Through  prickly  moors  or  dusty  ways  must  wind ; 
But  hearing  thee,  or  others  of  thy  kind, 
As  full  of  gladness  and  as  free  of  heaven, 
1,  with  my  fate  contented,  will  plod  on. 
And  hope  for  higher  raptures,  when  life's  day  is  done. 


C.     KoSSETTI. 


'^^^^mm^im 


NEST  BUILDERS. 

AS  we  said  in  an  earlier  lesson,  the  building  of  a 
^  nest  is  a  matter  requiring  skill  to  plan  and  deft- 
ness to  execute.  We  should  do  such  work  with 
hands,  but  a  little  thought  will  show  you  how  unfit  a 
bird's  toes  are  for  it. 

The  bill  is  the  bird's  best  tool,  and  is,  as  you  have 


Fig.  12.— Osprey's  Nest. 


Copyright,  Osprey  Co.,  i%<fj. 


learned,  a  chisel,  a  nut  cracker,  and  a  spade  ;  but  ^  ou 
may  have  yet  to  learn  that  it  is  a  mason's  trowel,  and 
even  a  needle. 

^  Hollows  in  the  ground,  a  bunch  of  seaweed,  rude 
platforms  of  sticks  are  among  the  simplest  kinds  of 


yM}.-cr^T^m:^ 


'TW'^i^^mKE':^mmmmmfm^'% 


I     i 

I; 

I 

I 


I 

1 

I 

\ 


80 


Bf/fl)    WOULD. 


nests.  The  Osprey,  or  Fishhawk,  uses  plenty  of 
material  but  not  much  skill,  and  as  he  adds  to  his 
nest  each  year,  it  often  becomes  a  huge  pile,  big 
enough  to  fill  a  wagon.  Such  a  Fishhawk's  nest  is 
shown  in  Fig.  12. 

Before  I  describe  the  more  wonderful  woven  struc- 
ture which  the  word  nest  calls  up  to  our  minds,  let  me 
speak  of  two  more  styles  of  building,  — the  holes  in 
sand  or  w^ood,  and  the  plastered  nests  of  mud. 

The  woodpecker's  chisel  enables  him  to  make  a 
hole  to  order  where  he  wants  it,  but  many  other  birds, 
such  as  Bluebirds  and  owls,  love  the  natural  hollows 
in  decayed  limbs. 

The  birds  that  li\  e  in  holes  in  the  earth  generally 
choose  sand;  you  can  imagine  why  they  1 -efer  it  to 
clay ;  and  river  banks  give  them  a  chance  to  build 
horizontally  rather  than  perpendicularly. 
What  advantage  is  this  to  them  .? 
One  bird,  the  Burrowing  Owl,  digs  out  a  long, 
winding  passage  underground,  at  the  end  of  which 
he  has  a  chamber  for  his  nest. 

The  mud  nests,  or  plastered  nests,  are  built  of  wet 
mud,  taken  in  the  bird's  bill  and  stuck  to  rocks  or 
walls  of  houses.  Have  Swallows  build  a  nest  shaped 
sometb".ig  like  a  bottle,  all  of  grains  of  mud.  These 
birds  gather  about  mud  puddles  in  May,  dinping  in 
their  bills.,  fluttering,  twittering,  lighting,  and  flying 


'^^^^sm^-Mm^^m^^r'^^m^-^^mmi 


NEST  BUILDERS. 


8i 


off,  a  happy  and  pretty  company  of  masons.  Some- 
times in  very  wet  weather  their  bottIe-«haped  homes 
crumble  and  fall  to  pieces,  though  they,  too,  know 
that  eaves  will  serve  them  as  an  umbrella. 

We  come  now  to  the  woven  nests.  Of  these  there 
are  so  many  and  of  such  variety  that  whole  books 
could  be  written  about  them.  Very  few,  however,  are 
more  graceful  and  more  cleverly  built  than  our  own 
Oriole's ;  the  nest  is  so  common  on  our  elms  that  we 
do  not  realize  how  wonderful  a  work  it  is. 

Look  at  a  piece  of  felt,  such  as  is  used  in  making 
soft  hats.  You  see  it  is  made  of  small  threads  closely 
woven  together.  An  Oriole's  nest  is  like  a  felt  pouch. 
First,  the  Oriole  fastens  strong  string  or  thread,  which 
he  has  twitched  off  from  fibrous  bark,  to  the  twigs  to 
which  he  has  chosen  to  hang  the  pouch.  These  serve 
as  a  framework  for  the  nest  and  must  be  very  strong. 
How  does  he  fasten  them  ?  Just  as  you  would,  except 
that  he  ties  his  knots  with  his  beak.  He  makes  a 
loop,  sticks  the  end  through,  and  pulls  it  tight. 

When  the  sk  -'leton  is  finished,  it  shows  the  depth 
and  general  shape  of  the  nest.  This  is  generally  as 
long  as  a  man's  hand.  The  bottom  is  rounded  and 
the  neck  narrowed  a  little.  Now  comes  the  weaving. 
Short  threads  snatched  from  ropes,  clotheslines,  bits 
c  tow  or  milkweed  stalks  are  woven  in  and  out 
through  the  first  long  threads,  till  the  nest  is  so  thick 


8i 


BIRD    WORLD 


.  4 


M    '.-. 


\\ 


I 


and  strong  that  it  often  hangs  through  the  rain  and 
snow  of  two  winters  after  the  bird  has  used  it. 

There  is  generally  a  lining  in  the  round  end  on 
which  the  eggs  are  laid.  Here  the  mother  sits  swing- 
ing in  the  wind  till  the  young  are  hatched,  and  there 
they  swing  like  sailor  boys  in  a  snug  hammock. 
The  leaves  above  them  keep  off  the  sun  and  rain. 
What  bird  could  wish  for  a  better  home  ? 

Few  American  birds  are  such  skilful  weavers  as  the 
Oriole,  and  none  dare  to  hang  their  nests  so  close  to 
the  ends  of  twigs.  The  other  weavers,  too,  generally 
use  coarser  material.  Instead  of  fine  woolen  or  silken 
threads  they  use  roots,  grass,  tough  barks,  or  even 
twigs ;  but  many  make  wonderfully  neat  nests  for  all 
that.  We  have  room  to  speak  of  only  two  before 
we  leave  America  and  hear  about  some  foreign  nest 
builders. 

The  Humming  Bird's  nest  is  as  tiny  as  its  owner; 
it  is  a  Hale  cup  saddled  on  a  twig  and  generally 
covered  on  the  outside  with  the  same  gray  lichens 
which  grow  on  the  twig  itself.  At  a  distance  it  looks 
like  a  little  gray  knot  on  a  knotty  bough,  and  most 
eyes,  even  if  they  rest  on  it,  fail  to  see  it. 

The  Song  Sparrow  and  many  of  his  family  build 
on  the  ground  and  weave  into  the  nest  so  much  dry 
grass  that  the  nest,  half  hidden  under  a  tuft,  is  very 
hard  to  make  out.     It  is  only  when  the  mother  bird 


■JS^^XfLL 


NEST  BUILDERS. 


83 


flies  out  from  under  our  feet,  as  it  were,  that  we  see 
it  and  its  pretty  speckled  eggs. 

In  foreign  countries  nests  are  built  in  much  the 
same  styles  and  for  much  the  same  purposes  as  here. 
When  the  weather  is  "  irm,  of  course  the  nests  need 
not  be  so  warmly  built  but  wherever  little  nal-ed  birds 
arc   born,  shelter  must  be   provided   for  .,  and 

skilful  bills  are  cutting,  weaving,  plaster  jr  even 
sewing  to  make  a  home  for  the  coming  young.  "  Sew- 
ing, you  ask,  "Can  a  bird  sew?"  Yes,  and  the  bill 
is  its  needle.  The  little  bird  who  sews  lives  in  India, 
and  is  so  famous  for  its  si  il  that  people  call  it  the 
Tailor-bird.  It  builds  in  the  gardens,  and  several 
people  have  written  about  it.  Here  is  what  one 
gentleman  says:  "  It  makes  its  nest  of  cotton,  wool, 
and  various  other  soft  mater'als,  and  draws  together 
one  leaf  or  more,  generally  two  leaves,  on  each  side 
of  the  nest  and  stitches  t  n  togethr;r  with  cotton, 
either  woven  by  itsei*,  or  cotton  thread  picked  up, 
and  after  passing  the  >  in vad  through  the  leaf  it  makes 
a  knot  at  the    ■  'd  to  h  v  a.'' 


-•',*%, . 


■^•■^i*^'^, 


THE  SWALLOWS. 

How  can  I  tell  the  signals  and  the  signs 
By  which  one  heart  another  heart  divines  ? 

WHAT  would  n't  we  give  to  know  what  it  is  they 
are  saying!  — these  two  happy  birds.  I  have 
watched  pairs  and  companies  of  swallows  ever  since 
I  was  a  child,  and  I  cannot  yet  find  any  words  that 
tell  all  that  I  think  it  is. 

A  year  or  two  ago  I  watched  a  swallow  family  ai 
Baker's  Island,  a  few  miles  out  from  the  N  rth  Shore 
of  Massachusetts  Bay,  for  a  whole  afternoon,  just 
when  the  young  ones  were  proving  their  wings  and 
learning  to  fly.  My  piazza  faced  the  bay  from  the 
top  of  a  cliff,  and,  to  keep  the  Island  cows  from  going 
too  near  the  edge,  a  single  rail  fence  had  been  set  up. 
It  was  from  one  of  these  rails  that  the  start  was  to  be 
made  and  the  lesson  given. 

A  few  yards  away  wy  family  were  learning  to  swim, 
and  I  looked  from  one  bit  of  teaching  to  the  other, 
like  a  school  inspector.  I  am  sure  I  do  not  need  to 
tell  which  class  took  the  prize  of  my  highest  approval. 
The  swallow  children  were  so  near  in  size  to  their 
parents,  that  I  only  knew  the  teachers  by  their  ster.dy 
flight.    There  were  three  in  the  class,  but  I  was  quite 


.  -n 


A    HAPPY    PAIR. 


■kfe'Tl-'C 


i':i:JfC-\'rti.'is;v4'; 


i 


i 


THE   SWALLOWS. 


85 


sure  that  one  stayed  in  its  place  on  the  rail  till  almost 
the  last  moment.  I  tried  to  make  myself  acquainted 
with  each,  but  a  shout  from  the  swimmers  and  bathers 
would  draw  my  attention  to  them  just  at  a  critical 
time,  and  I  could  not  be  perfectly  sure  the  flyers  did 
not  change  places.  What  might  a  real  bird  student 
have  done,  if  he  had  been  interested  to  know  the 
swallow's  ways.f* 

He  might  have  searched  the  little  island  over  to 
learn  where  this  family  went  when  the  lesson  ended, 
and  seen  what  they  did  the  next  day,  and  the  next ; 
and  if  he  had  watched  and  studied  with  heart  as  well 
as  eyes,  there  might  have  been  something  to  give  to 
bird-lovers  in  a  poem  or  stor}'.  This  is  what  is  being 
done  to  make  Bird  World  better  understood. 


THE  DEPARTURE  OF  THE  SWALLOW. 


And  is  the  swallow  gone? 

Who  beheld  it  ? 

Which  way  sailed  it  ? 
Farewell  bade  it  none  ? 

No  mortal  saw  it  go : 
But  who  doth  hear 
Its  summer  cheer 

As  it  flitteth  to  and  fro  ? 


So  the  freed  spirit  flies  ! 

From  its  surrounding  rlay 

It  steals  away, 
Like  the  swallow  from  the  skies. 

Whither.?  wherefore  doth  it  go.' 

'T  is  all  unknown  ; 

We  feel  alone 
That  a  void  is  left  below. 

William  Hownr. 


'M-t'^M' 


THE  BARN   SWALLOW. 

WHEN  a  farmer  builds  a  new  barn,  he  plans 
stalls  for  his  horses,  stanchions  for  his  cows, 
pens  and  coops  for  the  pigs  and  hens,  and  often  in 
the  attic  he  cuts  holes  and  builds  httle  ledges  for 

^'' One'guest  who  is  quite  sure  to  wish  to  come  he 
hardly  ever  arranges  for;  but  when  the  barn  is  fin- 
ished and  its  great  door  stands  wide  open^  some  soft 
May  dav,  the  ^swallow  flies  in  and  out,  and,  perching 
on  the  wide  beams  under  the  roof,  chooses  a  pl ace  for 
his  nest.     One  farmer  that   I  knew,  thought  of  the 
swallows  when  he  built  his  barn,  and  drove  a  horse- 
shoe into  a  beam.     Each  year  the  swallows  build  a 
nest  on  this  support.  . 

Although  the  farmer  does  not  exactly  invite  the 
swallows.  Vet  nearly  all  farmers  are  glad  to  have  them 
come    glad  to  hear  them  twittering  on  the  ridgepole, 
ghd  to  see  them  flying  over  the  grass  or  up  into  the 
bricrht  sky.     "  The  swallows   have    come     is  one  ot 
the^est  bits  of  news  which  the  farmer's  children  can 
brincr  to  their  mother.     It  tells  that  summer  is  near, 
just  Is  the  first  Bluebirds  brought  notice  that  winter 
was  over. 


9^ 


wm 


'^'..VT'^mi^m 


THE  BARN  SWALLOW. 


87 


You  have  read  already  about  the  mud  nests  of  the 

swallows ;  in  them  cue  young  are  fed,  and  from  them 

the  young  are  coaxed  by  their  parents  to  try  their 

wings.     They  fly  only  a  short  distance  at  first,  their 

parents  %ing  past  them,  calling  and  showing  them 

how  easy  it  is.     Soon   the  wings  of   the    little  ones 

grow  stronger,  and  before  many  days  t'      young  are 

skilful   enough    in    the 

air  to   taVe   food   from 

their  parents  while  they 

are  flying.     This  is  one 

of  the   prettiest  sights 

to    be    seen    in     Bird 

World.     The    parent 

gives     a     note     which 

means    "  Come    on,     I 

have    something    for 

you."    The  young  bird 

flies    toward     the     old 

one,  and  as  they  meet 

both  fly  upward,  their  I'lls  touch,  and  the  food  passes 

from  one  to  the  other. 

Wonderful  wings  swallows  have,  and  wonderfully 
skilful  and  graceful  is  their  flight.  Backwar  nd  for- 
ward they  pass,  now  with  a  sudden  turn  to  th.  side,  or 
a  little  upward  one  over  a  hedge,  turning  corners,  slip- 
ping between  men  and  horses,  all  without  an  effort. 


Flo.  1-5.  —  Swallow. 


'II  I     IP  iil  I    liliti  III   liimillilll  .>'3^M£ii.V'«'^^' -«. 


iSl 


88 


BIRD    WORLD. 


When  the  autumn  comes,  the  tireless  wings  are 
croin-  to  carry  them  to  Mexico  or  Yucata.,  where 
Cw  U  find'old  friends,  Kingbirds  and  Bobo  mk^ 
and  where  new  insects  will  taste  as  good  to  them  as 
New  England  flies  and  gnats.  ,      ^     „. 

Watch' a  swallow  hunting!     Every  tm.e  he  tu_n 
quickly  in  his  course,  to  this  side  or  to  that,  another 
insect  has  passed  into  that  wide-open  mouth.     Count 
them  for  a  minute.  The  number  quickly  runs  in  o  the 
tens  and  twenties.     Now  remember  that  a  swallow  is 
on  his  feet,  we  should  say,  -on  his  wings  the  swallows 
would  call  it,-from  four  o'clock  in  the  coming   o 
six  at  night,  and  longer  in  the  June  days.     Multiply 
the  minutes;  fourteen  times  sixty  is  over  eignt  hun- 
dred is  it  not  ?    Now,  supposin  ;  he  caught  ten  insects 
aminute,-and  this  is  probably  too  few, -you  can 
see  that  a  dozen  swallows  would  make  away  with  a 
larcre  army  of  insects,  nearly  all  of  which  would  plague 
the"  cattle,  or  feed  upon  the  farmer's  fruit  or  vege- 
tables     The  farmer  has   no  better   cr  more  hard- 
working servant  than  the  swallow.     He  has  a  good 
righi,  has  he  not,  to  the  shelter,  for  a  month  or  so,  of 
the  farmer's  barn  ? 


TEE   RED-WINGED   BLACKBIRD. 


■Mr/ 


Fust  comes  the  blackbird  clatterin'  on  tall  trees, 
And  settlin'  things  in  windy  congresses. 

Lowell. 

'T'HERE    is  a  little  beetle  that  lives  on  water-lily 
*      leaves ;  and  if  any  insect  were  safe  from  attack, 
you  would  think  it  might  be  this  one.    Several  times, 
however,  I  have  seen  ^ 

Red-wi  nged  Black- 
birds  light  on  the 
leaves,  as  they  floated 
on  the  water,  and  pick 
off  the  beetles.  Thi . 
shows  us  how  the 
birds  pry  into  every- 
thing, and  attack  our 
insect  enemies  in  every 
part  of  nature. 

The  Red-wing  is 
never  far  from  the  water,  and  often  builds  his  nest  in 
the  bushes  or  sedges  that  grow  over  slow  streams 
or  ponds.  In  March  and  April  he  sits  for  hours  on 
the  top  of  some  bush,  spreading  his  wings  to  show 
his  scarlet  epaulets,  and  singing  his  loud    cheerful 


Fl<;.  14.  —  Red-winged  Blackbird. 


-mw^MtT-jm^-. 


BIRD    WORLD. 
90 

*Uof  notes  and  whistles ; 
..  Okalee."     He  has  many  "'^er  noKs  a  ^.^^^ 

in  fact  the  blackb.rd  .s  a  "°-y/f^^'^^„  „,ue  th. 
particularly  at  ^f '^1:"' "«  e  dow"  to  sleep.  H 
marshes  nng  ^.^'"^  .^^J^  ighborhood,  the  black- 
tiid^^arl'tuS  an^a  w-h&m.  much  disturbed 

drives  the  blackbirds  mto  -"f"  ^'^  He  "o^'h 
first  warm  March  ^-^J^^^\rZ^,  flocks,  and 
again.    The  males  come   fi-'   '"  S^      ^  Uon 

wait  for  their   partners.       t   ^s   alway         4^._,^  ^^ 
whether  the  first  spnng  bird  will 

'\  '^•^'-^'rs'bo^klo^tm  read  about  Bird  Fami- 

Later  in  this  dook  yuu  ^plated  to  each 

lies,  different  ^inds  of  b.rds  who  are  rel  ted        ^^_^^ 

other,  just  as  yo"  have  distant  cousmshav.  g       ^^^^ 

names.    When  you  come  to  know  x^ha        ^ 

"P  the  '-"^i^.tfoJe  efyttere^ting  acquain^ 
^-rhrBoboHnlTe  Ori'ole,  the  la.y  Cowbird, 
Tnd  the  Meadow  L-'^  are  among  Jh^^^^^  ^^^ 

What  different  hab.ts  these  ereatu 
nests  in  the  long  grass,  one  in  tall  elms,  one 

swamps,  and  one  makes  no  nest  at  all. 


w^'^^ffwmss^^s^m'^^;m^st^jmSi-MUsi':^x^:i^ 


ABOUT  BIRDS'   TOES. 


THE  animals  in  Wonderland,  you  remember,  were 
always  very  much  surprised  that  Alice  was  not 
constructed  just  as  they  were  themselves;  in  fact  they 
seemed  rather  to  look  down  upon  her  because  she 
was  different. 

If  Alice  had  met  a  large  number  of  our  North 
American  birds,  I  think  they  would  have  been  very 
scornful  about  the  uselessness  of  her  toes.  We  may 
think  of  them  as  saying,  "  What  can  you  do  with 
them?" 

"  Can  yovi  catch  fish  or  mice  ?  "  "  No !  "  Then 
the  hawks  and  owls  w^ould  have  turned  their  backs. 

"  Of  course  you  can  climb  with  them  ?  "     "  No." 

Then  the  woodpeckers  would  have  nothing 
more  to  say. 

A  fat  duck  would  waddle  up  and  comfort 
her  by  saying  that  she 
thought  climbing  perfectly 
absurd  and  dangerous  as 
well.  "  But  of  course  your 
toes  are  webbed  to  help  you 
•swim,"  she  might  add.  If  you  were  Alice,  you  would 
have  to  confess  that  you  could  not  swim  very  well 


Fig.  15.  —  Duck's  Foot. 


wX^i^rWi-j}. 


\   1 

1 


BIRD    nOK/D. 
„„yway,  and  that  you   used  your  hands  more  than 
'"Neither  do   you  .cratch   for  seeds  or  worms,  like 

for  she  uses  her  toes  mainly  to  walk  on,  as  you 
'^N^e  of  the  birds,  however,  have  as  many  toes  as 


•  u  17    t  F,o  , ,._  Foot  of  Sonp  Sparrow. 

p,j;_  ,(,.  _  Dstrich  Foot.  «  "'■    /• 


u     .      Four  is  the  larcrest  and  commonest  num- 
C,ru:i,y'r..;d  so  th^t  three  toes  pom.  forwar 
and  one  back.     This  arrangemen    .s^  be^    -ted 

thumb,  which  would  help  very  little  .f  .t  could  not  be 

brought  up  under  >'<»".  ""fff;       .^^^  j^^s  are  wide 

\  r  thaT    llr:  Sectc'an  tl'ltched  and  held 
apart,  so  that  a  lar^^c  u  j 

U.     The  I^'^'^';-^  J,^'^„Vs    e    se  "d  all  tJe 
slippery  prey,  can  turn  one  loc 


*ft..>*K<-:i^..,  fgrti  Jk'^ife**: 


im. 


ABOUT  BIRDS'    TOES. 


93 


owls  can  do  the  same,  so  that  they  have  a  very  firm 
grasp. 

In  the  woodpeckers  and  parrots  tht  ^  are  always 
two  hind  toes,  but  some  other  tree-climbers,  like  the 
little  Brown  Creeper,  get  up  a  tree  just  as  cleverly 
with  the  usual  arrangement  of  toes. 

The  little  sooty  brown  birds,  who  live  in  your 
chimneys  and  are  called  Swifts,  from  their  great  speed, 


Fig.  i8.  —  Grouse  Foot. 


Fig.  19. —  Foot  of  Flicker. 


have  short,  weak  toes  which  they  use  very  little.  In 
England  there  is  a  swift  whose  four  toes  all  point 
forward,  but  the  bird  spends  nearly  all  day  on  the 
wing,  so  that  he  does  not  need  his  feet  for  perching. 
Notice  the  short  hind  toes  of  the  duck  and  the  grouse 
(Figs.  15,  18),  birds  which  flatten  out  the  foot  in 
walking. 

The  hen's  hind  toe,  as  you  must  know,  does  not 
touch  the  ground,  and  in  some  birds  this  toe  has 
been  used  so  little  that  it  has  practically  disappeared. 


y^,sv  ^v^=.; 


'tjmm^m^m:. 


i  I 


B//in    WOJil.D. 
94 

Many  birds,  therefore,  have  only  three,  and  generally 
these  are  ciU  front  toes  .      ^^ 

Beside  the  Swift,  who  spends  so  much  time 

.  .         \morican  birds  who  cannot  perch 

lir  there  are  two  American  ui^-i  , 

air,  tntrt  Whip-poor-wiU  and  tht 

in  the   usual  way;  they  art  ^^"/H^l  ^sp  a 

Night  Hawk.     Their  toes  are  ^ooj^t  to  g      P 

lin.l3  stout  enough  to  ^^\'^^Jl^lJU 
on  the  ground  or  along,  not  across,  a  large 


Fu;.  20.  —  Chimney  Swift. 


.JIU'UJIWW 


BOB  WHITE. 

HALF  a  mile  away  you  can  hear  Bob  White  whis- 
tling his  name,  "  Bob  White  ! "  "  Bob  White  !  " 
The  sound  is  so  distinct  that  dogs,  when  they  hear  it 
first,  show  that  they  take  it  for  the  call  of  a  human 
being.  Following  the  sound  and  keeping  a  sharp 
lookout,  you  may  find  him  on  the  fence  rail,  and  if 
you  creep  cautiously  near,  you  will  see  what  a  hand- 
some bird  he  is. 

His  throat  is  pure  white,  his  head  marked  with 
black  and  white,  and  his  short,  fat  body  a  rich  brown. 
Why  is  he  whistling  so  clearly  ? 

If  you  answer  him,  —  for  you  can  learn  to  whistle 
the  notes  almost  as  clearly  as  he  does,  —  you  may  see 
a  very  fierce  little  Quail  com*-  flying  to  the  spot  where 
you  are  hidden,  for  the  whisviing  of  the  Quail,  like  the 
drumming  of  the  Grouse,  is  a  call  to  his  mate  and  a 
challenge  to  all  his  rivals. 

Under  the  blackberry  vines,  along  the  wall,  or  in  a 
tuft  of  grass  in  the  open  fields,  his  mate  is  covering, 
or  trying  to  cover,  a  set  of  eggs  which  it  would  be  a 
joy  for  you  to  see  —  row  within  row  of  pure  white 
beautiful  eggs,  sometimes  as  many  as  twenty  in  a 
nest. 


m^  v-#^r-  'i:;:5S5j»-jf j^ML^^ifc^tj^^ 


96 


BIRD    WORLD. 


i 


When  the  little  ones  hatch,  they  come  ^^»^ ^^'^^^^ 

J£^:i  down,  and  run  t^^^"^^^^ 
,oung  Grouse  or     arnyard  ch      en  .      rh  ■  ^P^^^^_^^ 

r^^fo'^dtr'th:^:::' at  th^e  approach  of  hawUs 

or  prowling  cats.  ^    ^^,^5 

Like  the  Grouse,  ^^  Qj^JXe  G  ^^.e,  the  flock 

where  he  -s  born    b  t,  -^^^^^  ,„.,,her  all 

:ireSirad*-ting  1  trees  they  have  a 

.erysociablehahitofspend.^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

s.x::rtx-^:]--c^,-^ 

rdt-:d'tr:f:slai;:sUd  the  people  o. 

Pompeii.  ^    Q     j|g  scratch 

When  the  winter  is  not  too  severe,  tnt  vj 
the  snow  away,  hunting  for  seeds  -d  grain      H  th. 
have   not  been  hunted  or  pursued    too  much,  t_l.e> 
sometimes  become  very  tame,  ..d  come  shyly  into 
the  barnyard  or  about  the  house  for  food^ 

In  the  summer,  berries  and  corn  and  wheat 


BOH    WIIITK. 


97 


have  dropped  from  the  ears  are  crushed  by  their 
short,  stout  bills,  and  they  fill  out  their  daily  bill  of 
fare  with  grubs  and  insects. 

The  wings  of  a  Quail,  though  strong,  are  short  in 
comparison  with  the  weight  of  his  body.  They  are 
also  somewhat  concave,  like  the  inner  side  of  a  watch 
crystal,  so  that  when  the  bird  flies  the  rapid  strokes 
and  the    shape  of   the    wing  make  a  loud  whirring 

sound. 

Quails  are  not  as  common  as  they  once  were.  Too 
many  of  them,  instead  of  wandering  about  the  pas- 
tures, hang  in  the  markets,  their  pretty  feathers  soiled 
and  a  little  stain  of  blood  telling  the  story  of  their 
death-;  but  if  the  extermination  were  to  become  com- 
plete, the  only  ones  to  be  benefited  would  be  such  real 
enemies  to  our  crops  as  the  potato  beetle  and  the  cut- 
worm. In  Wisconsin  they  were  brought  back  by  a 
state  law,  as  song  birds  were  said  to  be  in  Killing- 
worth. 


I  ■ 


if 


AUDUBON   AND   THE   PHCEBES. 

A   PAIR  of    Phoebes   once    built   in    a   cave    near 
Audubon's  house.     He  visited  them  so  often, 
and  was  so  careful  not  to  frighten  them,  that  they 
finally  paid  no  more  heed  to  his  presence  than  if  he 
had  been  a  post.     He  was  therefore   able    to  learn 
much  about  their  manner  of  life;  he  found  out  ;  ow 
often  eggs  were  laid,  and  how  long  the   female  .sat 
upon  th'em.     As  the  young  grew  up  he  handled  them 
frequently,  so  that  they,  too,  grew  accustomed  to  hmi. 
As  they  grew  older  he  tied  bits  of  thread  to  their 
legs,  but  these  they  always  pulled  off.     When,  how- 
ever, they  became  so  used  to  the  threads  that  they 
allowed    them    to    remain    on    their   legs,    Audubon 
wound  a  silver  thread  on  the   leg   of   each,    "loose 
enough  not  to  hurt"  them,  "but  so  fastened  that  no 
exertion  of  the  birds  could  remove    it."     Soon   the 
birds  left  the  nest  and  in  the  autumn  went  south. 

The  next  spring  Audubon  hunted  up  all  the 
Phoebe's  nests  in  the  neighborhood  and  caught  the 
females  as  thev  sat  upon  the  nest.  Do  you  not 
imagine  that  he  was  pleased  to  f^nd  that  on  the  legs 
of  two  birds  was  a  light,  silver  thread  ? 


<mi 


HOW   YOUNG   BIRDS   GET   FED. 


ONE  afternoon  in  July  I  watched  six  little  Barn 
Swallows  sitting  on  the  roof  of  a  barn.  They 
had  evidently  left  their  nest  only  a  few  days  before, 
but  their  wings  were  already  strong  enough  to  carry 
them  back  to  the  roof  if  they  fluttered  off- 
Soon  the  father  approached,  and  was  greeted  by 
six  gaping  mouths.  The  little  bird  sitting  nearest 
him  iiot  the  mouthful,  and  an  instant  later  got  another 
from  the  mother.  Six  times  in  succession  he  was  fed, 
neither  parent  regarding  the  five  other  yellow  throats. 
This  seemed  unfair,  and  foolish  as  well.  I  thought 
little  birds  must  be  starved  one  dav  and  fed  toe  full 
the  next.  I  waited  a  few  moments  and  the  mystery- 
was  solved.  The  little  fellow  who  had  been  getting 
so  much  soon  had  all  he  wanted.  The  next  time  the 
parents  came  his  mouth  was  shut,  and  one  of  the  other 
five  got  the  mouthful. 

When  a  cat  or  a  dog  has  had  enough,  he  stops  eat- 
ing. It  must  be  so  with  little  birds ;  when  one  has 
had  enough,  he  shuts  his  mouth  and  eyes  and  dozes 
while  his  brothers  and  sisters  get  their  meal  I  fear, 
though,  that  when  there  are  six  mouths  to  fill,  the 
last  is  hardly  closed  before  the  first  opens  again. 


1 

1 

1 

■ 

TT? 

-^--jTr         , 

.■'-^  ■  ■ 

*    r                      i 

W-- 

V.:--     ' 

4;/-, 

.-r  ■  ■             : 

m.i 

.V 

:vii 

'  WH 

'v^.'--^  -       . 

I  i 
1  i 


i  s 


FOOD   OF   BIRDS. 

BY  carpentering,  by  painting,  by  siMing  goods,— 
by  so  many  different  kinds  of  work  that  it  would 
be  hard  to  make  a  list  of  them  all,  — your  fathers 
provide  your  daily  food. 

Long  ago,  in  the  old  forests  of  England  or  Ger- 
many, our  ancestors  got  their  own  food  by  hunting, 
fishing,  keeping  cattle,  and  by  a  little  farming.  To- 
day this  work  is  done  for  us,  but  the  birds  have  still 
to  do  their  foraging  for  themselves. 

Birds  eat  the  things   which  you  eat,  and  besides 
have  the  whole  insect  world  to  hunt  in.     You  can 
often  tell  by  a  bird's  appearance  what  he  eats,  and 
when  you  have  found  that  out,  you  can  ge" -rally  tell 
where  he  will  choose  to  live,  and  what  many  of  his 
habits  of  life  are.     When  you  see  the  wide  mouth  of 
a  swallow,  and  his  long,  slende  r  wings,  you  will  decide 
that  if  any  bird  could  catch  the  hosts  of  flies,  gnats, 
and  beetles  that  fill  the  air  in  summer,  certainly  the 
swallow  should  be  well  fitted  for  such  hunting.    When 
you  remember  that  hard  frosts  kill  these  flying  insects, 
you  will  feel  sure  that  you  will  find  no  swallows  here 
in  winter.     The  long,  sharp  bill  of  a  heron,  and  his 
long,  naked  feet  seem  well  fitted  for  spearing  frogs 


Copyright,  /*V7.  hy  ihf  Hsprey  t<>, 

BLACK-THROATED   GREEN    WaRBLERS. 


fc<.v{^ 


FOOD    OF  BIRDS. 


lOl 


and  fish  in  shallow  water.  Herons  must  therefore  live 
near  water,  and  in  winter  go  where  the  swamps  are 
not  frozen. 

Such  birds  as  Crows  eat  many  kinds  of  food ;  what- 
ever they  can  get,  in  fact.  In  spring  the  farmer's 
corn  tastes  sweet  to  them,  but  the  grubs  and  beetles 
are  good  food,  too,  and  they  find  that  no  one  will 
shoot  them  for  taking  the  grubs,  while  eating  corn 
means  taking  son  ■  risk.  In  fall  and  winter,  nuts  are 
also  added  to  the  Crow's  bill  of  fare.  Near  the  sea- 
shore, dead  fish  and  other  sea  animals  which  are 
found  on  the  shore  vary  the  food  in  winter.  I  am 
ashamed  to  say  that  eggs,  and  even  young  birds,  are 
sometimes  devoured  by  the  Crow.  When  a  bird  is 
so  easily  pleased,  and  has  such  a  wide  choice,  he  can 
stay  all  the  year  round. 

Seed-eating  birds,  like  the  sparrows,  can  find  seeds 
on  the  weeds  and  grasses  even  in  winter,  and  the  little 
bark  inspectors  find  eggs,  cocoons,  and  sleepy  beetles 
in  the  cracks  of  the  bark,  so  that  winter  does  not 
frighten  them  away.  Many  of  the  sea  birds,  especially 
the  divers,  can  find  fish  or  shellfish  in  the  winter  sea, 
where  it  does  not  freeze  over. 

Did  you  ever  think  why  the  Pine  Warbler  loved  the 
pines,  and  the  Summer  Yellowbird  preferred  the 
willows }  Not  because  either  of  them  eats  the  seeds 
or  leaves  of  these  trees,  but  because  in   them  each 


'  i  < 


J02  ///^'^^     ll'OA'/./l 

finds  the  insects  he  has  learned  to  catch.  Sometimes 
a  bird's  food  depends  so  largely  on  a  certain  tree  that 
he  will  have  to  leave  a  town,  if  these  trees  are  all  cut 

down.  .     ,  .     1     r  r      J 

Sometimes  birds  have  found  a  certam  kmd  of  food 
or  a  way  of  getting  food  so  different  from  that  of  any 
other   bird    that   their   bills  or  feet   have   gradually 
changed,    and    they    have    become    more    and  more 
dependent  on  this  way  of  getting  their  livmg.     The 
woodpecker's  tongue  is  a  long,  hooked   brush,  with 
which  he  rakes  out  grubs  from  deep  holes,  the  Hum- 
ming Bird's  tongue  is  a  tube  through  which  he  sucks 
honey,  and  the  Flamingo's  bill    is  a    sieve  through 
which  he  strains  muddy  water  as  a  whale  strams  the 
sea  water  through  his  whalebone  meshes. 

You  could  find  mar     stories  about  the  strungo  food 
or  feeding  habits  of  bii  as.     First,  however,  look  about 
you,  if  you  can,  and  find  out  what  the  birds  that  are 
your  own  neighbors  eat,  and  how  they  get  it.     Take 
the  common  birds,  the  Robin,  the  Chipping  Sparrow, 
the  Kingbird,  and  the  Gull,  and  watch  them  till  you 
see  them  getting  and  eating  their  dinner.     Then  you 
will  be  all  the 'more    interested    in    the   interesting 
stories  you  will  find  in  the  books.     You  will  learn, 
too,   what    patience    and    sharp    sight    people   come 
to   have    who   watch   birds   and    find    out    all    their 
secrets. 


K^.^;vif'- 


WHEN  A   BIRD  CHANGES  HIS  CLOTHES. 

DO  you  know  how  important  the  masts  of  a  sailing 
ship  are  ?  If  they  are  broken,  the  ship  is  help- 
less.    It  drifts  about  wherever  the  wind  blows  it. 

A  bird's  wing  and  tail  feathers  are  as  important  for 
its  safety  as  the  mast  and  sails  of  a  ship.  The  strong, 
powerful  quill  Teathers  enable  it  to  fly  rapidly  through 
the  air  to  get  its  food  and  to  avoid  its  enemies.  It 
is  important  that  the  feathers  of  both  wings  should 
be  uninjured,  for  the  bird  would  be  unable  to  guide 
its  flight  if  one  wing  were  much  less  strong  than  the 
other. 

Feathers  get  worn  by  use,  some  even  get  broken, 
and  if  the  bird  could  not  replace  them  it  would  have 
hard  work,  after  a  year  or  two,  to  make  the  old 
weatherworn  ones  do  their  work. 

Nature,  however,  provi('  s  the  birds  with  a  new 
suit  of  clothes  every  year.  After  the  /oung  are 
hatched,  when  the  old  birds  no  longer  need  their 
swiftness  and  strength  to  get  the  daily  food  for  their 
children,  the  feathers  of  almost  all  birds  begin  to 
drop  out ;  not  at  once,  for  that  would  leave  the 
bird  naked  and  helpless,  but  gradually  and,  in  the 
case  of  the  wing  feathers,  fairly  evenly.     As  fast  as 


I04 


BIRD    WORLD. 


the  feathers  drop  out  others  grow  out  to  take  their 
places,  and  in  a  month  or  so  the  bird  has  a  new  suit 
I,f  fine  strong  feathers,  all  ready  to  carry  him  to  his 
distant  winter  home. 

With  many  of  the  birds  of  the  Duck  and  Goose 
family,  the  moulting  goes  on  so  quickly  that  the  bird 
h.s  scarcely  enough  feathers  to  enable  him  to  fly. 
He  hides  during  these  unhappy  weeks  in  dis  ant 
swamps,  hoping  that  no  enemy  will  attack  him  t.U  he 
is  ready  to  fly  again.  He  must  feel  like  a  cripple 
and  try  his  wings  Impatiently,  longing  for  the  day 
when  he  can  be  off  again  through  the  air 

In  the  case  of  many  gay-colored  male  birds,  this 
summer  moult  leaves  them  very  shabby-looking  1  he 
Bobolink  loses  all  his  gay  black  and  uliite,  and  comes 
out  in  August  in  brown  and  yellonish,  bke  his  wife 
and  children.  He  probably  does  not  feel  so  proud  of 
his  -ood  looks  as  before,  but  I  think  he  is  safer.  The 
black  and  white  was  so  bright  that  his  enemies  could 
easily  see  him,  but  now  he  can  slip  away  among  the 
brown  grasses  and  hardly  be  noticed. 

Many  male  birds  are  not  content  with  one  suit  of 
feathers  a  year.  They  have  to  have  another  new  suit, 
or  part  of  one,  in  the  spring,  and  of  the  gayest  colors 
and  feathers.  Red  and  blue  and  yellow  appear  on 
the  shoulders,  in  the  tail,  on  the  head,  neck,  and 
breast,  in  patches,  bars,  bands,  streaks.  In  fact  m  every 


WHEN  A   BIRD    CHANGES  HIS   CLOTHES.    I05 

way  that  can  make  the  bird  attractive.  The  little 
fellows  know  very  well  what  a  fine  appearance  they 
now  make.  If  there  is  any  bit  of  color  that  does  not 
show  well,  they  take  pains  to  bow  or  bend,  or  to  spread 
wing  or  tail  to  display  it.  All  these  bright  feathers 
are  moulted  again  and  the  winter  suit  put  on.  So 
the  suits  change  with  the  seasons,  till  the  little  life 
is  ended. 


The  Humming  Birds  are  a  perpetual  pleasure.  I 
shall  never  forget  the  surprise  of  joy  the  first  time 
one  alighted  on  my  sleeve  and  rested,  as  much  at 
home  as  if  I  were  a  stick  or  harmless  twig. 

Sparrows  and  Nuthatches  had  often  alighted  on 
my  head  as  I  stood  musing  over  my  flowers,  but  to 
have  this  tiny  spark  of  brilliant  life  come  to  anchor, 
as  it  were,  on  anything  so  earthly  as  my  arm  was 
indeed  a  nine  days'  wonder.  Now  it  has  grown  to  be 
an  old  story,  but  it  is  never  any  less  delightful. — 
Celia  Thaxter,  An  Island  Garden. 


11 


A  BIRD   IN  THE   HAND. 

EVERY  boy  or  girl  who  knows  the  winter  woods 
has  seen,  hanging  from  the  forked  twigs  of  bushes 
or  low  trees,  shallow,  cup-shaped  nests  like  that  in  the 

picture. 

These  woodland  nests  are  generally  built  by  the 
Red-eyed  Vireo,  a  bird  whose  enticing  song  and 
gentle  manners  soon  win  affection,  if  one  learns  to 
know  him.  The  nest  in  the  picture,  however,  is  that 
of  his  cousin,  the  Yellow-throated  Vireo,  whose  dis- 
position is  even  more  confiding  than  the  Red-eye's. 

I  have  always  liked  Yellow-throated  Vireos,  because 
of  the  careless,  confident  way  in  which  the  male  sings 
on  the  nest;  and  when  a  pair  of  these  vireos  appeared 
last  May  in  an  apple  tree  just  outside  my  dining-room 
window,  I  was  prepared  to  give  them  a  very  cordial 
welcome.  I  had  no  idea,  however,  when  the  female 
finally  selected  a  twig  and  fell  to  weaving,  how  impor- 
tant a  member  of  our  household  she  would  become, 
and  what  charming  associations  she  was  destined  to 
weave  about  the  tree. 

It  was  the  seventeenth  of  May  when  she  began  the 
nest.  By  night  it  seemed  to  me  finished,  but  to  her 
trained  c-yc  it  was  still  insecure.     All  the  next  morn- 


A    BIRD   JN  THE   HAND. 


lo: 


ing  she  kept  at  work,  and  at  noon  I  could  easily  see 
that  the  alls  were  much  thicker  and  more  smoothly 
covei  <1. 

Or  ti  e  tweiit}  -second  of  May  there  was  one  egg  in 
the  nco'; ,  tb-  next  morning,  a  second.  On  the  twenty- 
sixth  I  placed  a  short  ladder  against  the  tree,  so  that 
when  I  climbed  it  my  head  was  level  with  the  nest 
and  within  two  feet  of  it. 

I  climbed  the  ladder  twice,  to  accustom  the  bird  to 
her  strange  visitor,  and  the  third  time  I  offered  her 
a  cankerworm.     She  took  it,  but  flew  off  with  it. 

The  next  morning  I  made  the  fourth  ascent  of  the 
ladder  and  offered  the  vireo  a  large  black  ant,  which 
I  caught  on  the  tree  itself.  She  swallowed  it  without 
leaving  the  nest,  and  a  dozen  more  disappeared  as 
quickly  as  I  could  give  them  to  her.  These  black 
ants  were  evidently  considered  very  choice  food,  and 
as  there  were  large  colonies  of  them  in  the  hollows  of 
the  tree,  there  was  always  a  busy  line  following  up 
or  down  the  limb  against  which  the  ladder  rested. 
The  simplest  way,  therefore,  to  feed  my  friend  was  to 
stand  on  the  ladder,  waylay  each  passing  ant  and  offer 
it  to  her. 

The  next  morning,  on  my  fifth  ascent,  she  again 
ate  freely  from  my  hand  and  from  my  lips.  She  even 
left  her  eggs  and  perched  on  the  edge  of  the  nest, 
reaching  forward  if  I  held  the  ant  too  far  from  her ; 


io8 


BIRD    WORLD. 


and  when  I  had  desolated  the  highway  of  ants  and 
was  descending  the  ladder,  she  flew  from  the  limb 
below  the  nest  to  the  top  rung  of  the  ladder,  and  atte": 
I  fed  her  there,  to  the  next  rung,  following  me  some 
distance.  The  male,  whom  I  soon  learned  to  distm- 
guish  by  the  richer  yellow  of  his  throat,  w^as  naturally 
Sroused  and  indignant  at  this  intrusion.  While  his 
mate  was  eating  peacefully  from  my  hand,  he  flew 
backward  and  forward  close  to  my  head,  uttermg  a 
harsh,  scolding  note,  which  I  never  heard  from  the 

female. 

In  about  a  week  after  he  first  witnessed  the  perform- 
ance, the  male  became,  to  a  certain  extent,  reconciled 
to  his  wife's  strange  conduct.  He  did  not  dart  at  my 
head  so  often,  and  '  e  developed  a  habit  which  gave 
me  a  much  higher  opinion  of  his  character,  —  flying 
to  the  nest  when  the  female  followed  me  and  keeping 
the  eggs  warm  during  her  absence. 

Onte,  indeed,  while  I  was  feeding  her  on  the  nest, 
some  time  after  he  had  grown  used  to  me,  I  heard 
him  scolding  more  violently  than  ever.  I  wondered 
at  his  renewed  vigilance,  till  I  saw  that  he  was  watch- 
ing, not  me,  but  a  male  vireo.  His  anger  at  my  intru- 
sion had  been  somewhat  modified  by  astonishment, 
but  the  presence  of  another  bird  was  an  occurrence 
he  understood  and  felt  competent  to  deal  with. 

The  male  never  fed  from  my  hand,  although    he 


ji?V*'"' 


A    BIRD   I\   THE   HAND 


109 


often  remained  in  the  nest  until  I  came  very  near.  I 
knew  him  at  once  by  his  retracted  head  and  angry 
eyes.  ''ie  female's  head  was  always  extended  to  see 
what  I  was  bringing  her, 
and  her  eyes  were  intelli- 
gent and  gentle. 

He  was  a  true  barbarian, 
I  fear,  but  I  learned  to  re- 
spect him  thoroughly.  He 
defended  his  home  and 
family  as  well  as  he  could, 
and  he  was  extremely  ac- 
tive, a  little  later,  in  feeding 
the  young.  I  told  my 
friends,  of  course,  of  the 
rar*?  friendship  which  I  had 
formed,  and  several  came 
to  see  the  vireo  eat  from 
my  hand.  Not  only  did 
their  presence   under  the 

tree  seem  to  make  no  difference  in  her  appetite,  but 
when  one  of  them  climbed  the  ladder  I  had  to  admit 
that  she  took  food  from  his  hand  as  readily  as  she 
had  from  mine.  At  no  time  did  she  discriminate 
between  her  admirers.  Any  one  who  brought  black 
ants  was  welcome. 

On  the  twenty-eighth  of  May  I  put  her  courage  to 


Fig.  21.  — Vellow-throated  Vireo. 


f-^iC-fv-" 


no 


BIRD    WORLD. 


a  severe  test.  She  was  standing  on  the  edge  of  the 
nest,  the  better  to  reach  for  the  food  which  I  r  ^'-red 
her,  and  her  composure  was  so  great  and  my  w  \  so 
near,  that  I  ventured  to  close  it  over  her  and  lo  carry 
her  toward  me. 

She  did  not  seem  alarmed  at  this  strange  experi- 
ence ;  her  heart  was  not  beating  at  a  rapid  rate,  but  I 


Fig.  22. —  Vireo  and  Nest. 

think  the  position  was  too  unusual  to  be  comfortable. 
She  seemed  pleased  to  be  put  down,  although  she 
remained    where    I    placed    her   and    continued    her 

meal. 

If  I  put  an  ant  on  the  palm  of  my  hand,  she  pre- 
ferred to  hover  or  to  fly  over  and  take  the  ant  on  the 
wing;  yet  on  the  third  of  June  I  induced  her  to  perch 
on  my  finger. 


./    JilRP   IX  THE    HAXD. 


I  I  I 


I  managed  this  by  putting  a  box  containing  ants 
in  the  pahii  of  my  hand,  but  letting  it  show  between 
my  fingers.  She  wanted  the  ants  and  saw  only  one 
way  to  get  at  them.  She  alighted,  therefore,  on  my 
finger  and  thrust  her  bill  down  into  the  box.  She 
also  learned  to  eat  from  the  box  placed  upon  my 
head. 

In  order  to  photograph  the  bird  in  these  character- 
istic positions,  we  had  to  do  an  amount  of  climbing 
and  cutting  in  the  tree,  which  was  in  itself  a  severe 
test  of  her  composure.  The  camera,  too,  on  its 
tripod,  was  tied  in  place  only  a  foot  or  two  away,  and 
remained  there  night  and  day,  covered  by  a  black 
cloth  ;  but  neither  this  strange  object  nor  the  removal 
of  twigs  and  branches  all  around  the  nest  seemed  to 
disturb  the  vireo  in  the  least. 

By  the  eighteenth  of  June  the  young  were  hatched, 
and  as  soon  as  they  no  longer  needed  the  protection 
of  her  body,  the  mother  treated  herself  to  long  and 
well-earned  absences.  Once  she  was  away  so  long 
that  I  became  greatly  worried  about  her,  but  she 
returned  at"  length,  and  ate  once  more,  the  last  time, 
from  my  hand. 

She  unconsciously  gave  me  cause,  during  this  last 
interview,  to  think  of  her  a  little  more  constantly  than 
I  liked.  While  I  looked  up  at  her  as  she  fed,  there 
fell  into  my  eye  a  fragment  of  the  ant  she  was  eating 


I  12 


BIRD    WORLD. 


til! 


—  an  experience  that  forbids  me  to  recommend  formic 
acid  as  an  eye  lotion. 

But  I  forgave  her,  of  course,  and,  as  I  say,  this  was 
the  last  I  saw  of  her.  y\t  the  end  of  two  days  I  went 
away  for  the  summer.  When  I  returned,  in  Septem- 
ber, the  well-worn  nest  was  all  that  I  could  connect 
with  the  family  I  had  watched.  Often  when  I  look 
at  it  I  think  of  its  brave  architect  and  builder.  I 
remember  how  helpless  her  little  body  felt  in  my 
hand,  and  I  wonder  what  long  journeys  she  is  making 

now-. 

Most  of  all,  I  wonder  whether  she  will  escape  all 
the  perils  of  the  way  and  return  to  me  next  spring. 
The  chances  are  many  that  I  shall  not  see  my  vireo 
again,  but  if  she  returns  next  May  the  warmest  wel- 
come and  the  largest  ants  will  be  waiting  for  her. 


Redstarts,  like  all  little  birds,  are  "feathered  appe- 
tites," and  this  means  the  destruction  of  innumerable 
insects,  health  of  shade  trees,  and  the  perfecting  of 
flowers.  —  C.  C.  Abbott. 

The  happy  birds  that  change  their  sky 

To  build  and  brood  ;  that  live  their  life 

From  land  to  land. 

Tennyson's  In  Memoriam. 


BIRD   PASSPORTS. 

r^O  you  know  what  a  passport  is? 
^-^  In  all  parts  of  our  country  orderly  persons  may 
move  about  freely  without  exciting  suspicion.  In 
countries  differently  governed  stricter  rules  prevail, 
and  circumstances  are  liable  to  arise  in  which  it  is 
necessary  to  be  quickly  and  easily  identified,  and  to 
have  the  protection  of  one's  own  country. 

If  none  of  you  have  done  so,  many  of  your  parents 
have  had  to  pass,  during  a  single  summer,  through 
France,  Germany,  Italy,  Switzerland,  if  not  through 
cities  of  Austria,  Turkey,  Russia,  and  perhaps  coun- 
tries of  Asia  and  Africa.  The  form  of  protection  in 
such  cases  is  a  written  passport  signed  by  one  of  the 
highest  officers  of  our  government.  On  the  following 
page  is  a  copy  of  such  a  passport. 

If  any  wrong  should  come  to  one  holding  this  paper, 
he  can  appeal  to  his  government  to  see  that  it  is 
righted,  as  far  as  is  possible ;  and  if  he  himself  does 
violence  or  injury,  his  government  is  made  responsible 
for  his  wrongdoing. 

You  can  see  that  such  a  paper  must  not  be  trans- 
ferred from  person  to  person.  To  make  sure  that 
the  holder  of  it  is  the  rightfu'  owner,  he  is  carefully 
described  in  the  document,  as  you  see. 


I 


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ii  I  i 


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■  s 


in:  ■»  VKXM  ETVirSHTATTE 


m 


^JII!fewlipji)l|i/jgf/P^5ate8te9iii'»»J^/®^ 


<eruw. 


^-jjkim^/ien/ 


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i^.X.y^^^i^r' 


BIRD   J'ASSrORTS. 


115 


"  But  what,"  you  ask,  "  has  this  to  do  with  birds  ?  " 
Only  this:  the  birds  are  the  greatest  travelers  in  the 
world.  They  must  go,  in  the  different  seasons  of  the 
year,  where  the  food  they  need  is  most  plentiful.  If 
they  do  not  have  to  "sow  or  reap  or  gather  into 
barns,"  it  is  also  true  that  they  must  glean  and  forage 
day  by  day  to  meet  their  needs.  They  are  happiest 
in  summer  time  in  northern  latitudes;  but  when  frost 
comes  and  the  insects  are  safe  in  winter  cocoons,  they 
must  go  where  summer  heat  lasts  the  long  year 
through.  Traveling  is  not  so  much  a  pastime  as  a 
necessity. 

Going  high  over  our  heads,  they  do  not  ask  our 
leave.  Their  frequent  way  stations  are  the  tree  tops, 
the  marsh  grasses,  and  all  sorts  of  open  or  hidden 
ways.  Some  go  singing,  like  the  old-time  Troubadours. 

The  migration  of  different  kinds  of  birds  is  becom- 
ing better  known  every  year,  and  as  they  are  interest- 
ing \'  itors  we  are  all  glad  to  know  when  they  will 
come  our  way,  and  how  we  may  know  them  as  they 
pass.  While  they  accept  our  hospitality  without  ask- 
ing for  it,  with  very  few  exceptions  (hardly  worthy 
to  be  named),  they  are  of  the  greatest  service  to  us. 
Longfellow's  "  Birds  of  Killingworth  "  tells  what  this 
service  is. 

Now,  I  am  sure  you  can  see  how  it  is  that  an  exact 
description  of  every  known  bird  would  be  of  oreat  use 


Ii6 


I^IKD    WOK  in. 


for  many  different  reasons.  You  and  I  would  be  olad 
to  have  so  good  a  statement  of  the  birds  we  wish  to 
know  that  when  we  see  a  bird  we  may  be  helped  in 
finding  out  what  bird  it  is.  And  students  who  wish 
to  know  the  family  relations  of  different  birds  are  glad 
of  strict  bird  jiassports  for  that  purpose.  Those  who 
have  in  times  past  shot  birds,  thinking  they  would  get 
better  crops,  need  to  learn  what  birds  have  deserved 
their  thanks  instead. 

If  we  think  of  this,  we  shall  find  more  pleasure  in 
the  bird  books  written  for  older  students,  which  have 
seemed  to  contain  nothing  but  dull  statements.  We 
shall  p;        them  as  wc  do  dictionaries. 

There  is  another  idea  connected  with  this  matter 
of  j)assports.  As  you  grow  older  and  study  birds  for 
vourselves,  vou  will  wish  to  compare  what  you  learn 
with  what  others  know.  To  do  this  well  and  easily 
you  must  be  able  to  make  out  the  passports,  or 
descriptions,  which  are  used  in  bird  study. 

Many  birds  are  so  much  alike  that  it  often  requires 
quite  a'full  description  to  enable  any  one  who  knows 
to  tell  which  of  several  birds  you  have  in  mind.  It  is 
the  object  of  this  lesson  to  start  you  in  making  descrip- 
tions tor  yourselves,  as  well  as  in  using  those  of  other 
people. 


■jrTir  i 


THE   BIRD   OF    MANY  NAMES. 


s!At4'/'/i  :^/ilw.^^.;// 


f  N  our  world  we  arc  apt  to  express  an  opinion  of 
*  persons  who  in  different  places  pass  under  differ- 
ent names.  To  appear  in  full  wedding  suit  of  three 
striking  colors  in  New  England  in  May  and  June, 
then  to  don  a  snuffy 
brown  traveling  suit 
under  the  names  of 
Reed  and  Rice  in 
different  localities 
of  the  south,  and  in 
Cuba  to  assume  a 
foreign  name,  while 
at  least  two  other 
names  are  held  in 
good  faith  by  peo- 
ple somewhere  else, 
would  need  explana- 
tion. 

But  we  know  little  of  the  use  of  names  in  Bird 
World.  A  few  birds  tell  us  plainly  what  they  like  to 
be  called:  Whip-poor-will,  Bob  White,  Chickadee;  for 
the  most  part  we  have  put  our  own,  often  very  stupid, 
names  upon  them. 


Fic.  2^.—  FJolxilink. 


ii8 


lilRI)    irohTD. 


A  Bobolink  is  a  much-beloved  bird  in  New  Eng- 
land. It  would  seem  a  crime  against  nature  to  shoot 
him,  and  there  would  be  no  motive  save  to  enrich  a 
museum  or  milliner's  window. 

But  in  South  Carolina  or  Cleorgia  a  farmer  might 
be  pardoned  for  finding  a  way  to  save  his  crops  from 
the  Rice  Birds,  and  if  he,  for  his  part,  gets  morsels  for 
his  table,  he  would  not  be  half  paid  for  the  young  rice 
grains  that  the  great  flocks  of  jjassing  birds  devour. 

By  the  time  those  that  have  escaped  the  perils  of 
gunners  reach  Central  America,  they  are  said  to  be 
dainty  eating  as  Butter  Birds  for  those  whose  con- 
sciences let  them  secure  them,  and  we  cannot  blame 
the  people  nmch,  since  the  birds  keep  their  gay  holi- 
day, wear  their  bright  plumage,  sing  their  gay  songs 
with  us,  and  make  themselves  much  less  attractive  in 
the  land  of  their  winter  exile. 

The  female  bird  wears  only  the  yellowish  brown 
with  dashes  of  light  and  dark  on  wings,  tail,  and  back. 


"It 


■ 


n 


Modest  and  sliy  as  a  nun  is  she, 
Pretty  and  quiet,  with  plain  brown  wings, 
Passing  at  home  a  patient  life, 
Broods  in  the  grass  while  her  husband  sings, 
"  Bob-o-link,  Bob-o-link, 
ijpink,  Spank,  Spink." 


THE   BOBOLINK. 

BOBOLINK!  that  in  the  meadow* 
Or  beneath  the  orchard's  shadow 
Keepest  up  a  constant  rattle 
Joyous  as  my  children's  prattle, 
Welcome  to  the  north  again ! 
Welcome  to  mine  ear  thy  strain, 
Welcome  to  m-'ne  eye  the  sight 
Of  thy  buff,  tl  \    <;  ck,  and  white. 
Brighter  plumes  Juay  greet  the  sun 
By  the  banks  of  Amazon ; 
Sweeter  tones  may  weave  the  spell 
Of  enchanting  Philomel ; 
But  the  tropic  bird  would  fail, 
And  the  English  nightingale. 
If  we  should  compare  their  worth 
With  thine  endless,  gushing  mirth. 


A  single  note,  so  sweet  and  low. 
Like  a  full  heart's  overflow. 
Forms  the  prelude ;  but  the  strain 
Gives  us  no  such  tone  again, 
For  the  wild  and  saucy  song 
Leaps  and  skips  the  notes  amt)ng. 


I20 


BIRD    WORLD. 


•- 


With  such  quick  and  \sportive  play, 
Ne'er  was  madder,  merrier  lay. 

Nor  care  nor  fear  thy  bosom  knows ; 
Kor  thee  a  tempest  never  blows; 
But  when  Qur  northern  summer 's  o'er 
By  Delaware's  or  Schuylkill's  shore 
The  wild  rice  lifts  its  airy  head, 
And  royal  feasts  for  thee  are  spread. 
And  when  the  winter  threatens  there. 
Thy  tireless  wings  yet  own  no  fear, 
But  bear  thee  to  more  southern  coasts, 
Far  beyond  the  reach  of  frosts. 

Bobolink!  still  may  thy  gladness 
Take  from  me  all  taints  of  sadness; 
Fill  my  soul  with  trust  unshaken 
In  that  Being  who  has  taken 
Care  for  every  living  thing 
In  summer,  winter,  fall,  and  spring. 

Thomas  Hill. 


f    I 


If  I  were  a  bird,  in  building  my  nest,  I  should  fol- 
low the  example  of  the  Bobolink,  placing  it  in  the 
midst  of  a  broad  meadow,  where  there  was  no  spear 
of  grass,  or  flower,  or  growth  unlike  another  to  mark 
its  site.— Bi'UKoudHs. 


GYPSY  BIRDS. 

'T'HERE  are  many  land  birds  whose  whole  lives  are 
^  passed  almost  in  the  same  spot,  and  others  that 
make  great  journeys  twice  a  year ;  both  kinds,  how- 
ever, the  stay-at-homes  as  well  as  the  travelers,  are 
regular  in  their  habits. 

You  can  tell  where  to  find  them  or  when  to  expect 
them,  sometimes  almost  to  a  day.  Orioles,  for  instance, 
reach  Massachusetts,  almost  every  year,  in  the  first 
week  of  May  and  leave  in  the  last  week  of  August. 

Regular  habits  like  these  do  not  suit  gypsies  nor 
the  Gypsy  Birds;  they  wander  from  place  to  place 
wherever  they  find  the  food  they  like.  Sometimes 
they  appear  in  the  fall  in  great  numbers,  and  stay 
through  the  winter  and  late  into  the  spring.  The 
next  year  and  the  next  they  are  absent;  perhaps  ten 
years  elapse  before  they  revisit  the  place. 

The  best  known  of  the  gypsy  birds  are  the  Cross- 
bills, whose  strange  pair  of  scissors  you  find  among 
the  bird  bills  illustrated  on  page  197.  The  handsom- 
est gypsies  in  Bird  World  are  the  Pine  Grosbeaks ; 
the  most  lovable  ones  are  the  Linnets.  All  these  live 
in  the  far  north,  where  snow  lies  on  the  ground  for 
the  greater  part  of  the  year,  in  the  great  pine  and 


122 


BIRD    WORLD. 


I     5 
> 


spruce  forests,  or  still  further  north  where  the  white 
birches  grow,  and  the  owls  and  foxes  are  white  as  the 
white  snow. 

No  one  knows  when  to  expect  these  gypsies.  Any 
winter  they  may  appear;  the  rosy-colored  Linnets, 
in  flocks  of  hundreds,  light  on  the  birches  and  scatter 
the  seed-wings  over  the  snow.  The  Crossbills  go 
to  the  spruce  cones  for  their  seeds,  and  the  Gros- 
beaks eat,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  not  only  the  seeds  but 
the  buds  as  well.  However,  they  come  so  rarely  that 
they  do  little  harm,  and  they  are  so  beautiful  and  so 
tame  that  every  one  welcomes  them. 

Probably  if  you  were  to  put  on  your  snowshoes  and 
travel  far  northward  when  you  heard  that  these  birds 
had  come,  till  you  should  come  to  the  great  forests 
where  they  were  born,  you  would  discover  why  they 
had  come  south. 

Not  that  they  fear  the  cold,  for  they  often  live 
happily  where  the  thermometer  goes  down  to  30° 
below  zero.  No,  you  would  look  at  the  trees,  and  if 
you  saw  that  the  birches,  for  some  reason,  had  had  p 
poor  crop  of  seeds,  as  sometimes  the  apple  tree's  crop 
fails,  or  that  there  were  few  cones  on  the  spruces,  you 
would  make  up  your  mind  that  the  gypsy  birds  had 
wandered  south  for  food. 


FOSTER-MOTHERS. 


r^O  you  know  what  a  foster-mother  is? 
*-^  If  you  have  read  Hans  Andersen's  famous  story, 
The  Ugly  Duckling  you  will  remember  that  the 
duck  mother  found  a  strange  egg  in  her  nest,  and 
when  it  hatched,  the  bird  that  came  out  was  larger  by 
half  than  her  own  ducklings.  So  ugly  and  awkward 
it  was  that  all  the  creature''  in  the  farmyard  pecked 
at  it.  The  good  mother,  though  she  was  ashamed  of 
it,  tried  to  protect  it,  and  treated  it  kindly. 

Birds  which  hatch  eggs  which  they  did  not  them- 
selves lay  are  called  foster-mothers,  and  there  are 
more  of  them  in  Bird  World  than  most  people 
suppose. 

If  you  are  walking  in  the  fields,  you  may  come 
across  a  strange  sight,  — a  young  bird,  considerably 
larger  than  a  sparrow,  squatting  on  the  ground  with 
beak  wide  open  and  wings  hanging  down.  In  a 
moment  he  will  squall  loudly,  and  then  run  a  few 
steps  in  the  direction  of  a  smaller  bird  which  is  busily 
hunting  for  insects  or  grubs.  When  the  smaller  bird 
finds  something,  she  hurries  to  the  lazy  youngster 
and  gives  it  to  him ;  but  he  has  hardly  swallowed 
it  before  his  mouth  is  open  for  more.     He  gives  his 


124 


BIRD    WORLD. 


little  foster-mother  no  peace,  and  you  wonder  she  is 
not  utterly  worn  out.  If  you  caught  the  two  birds 
and  looked  at  their  passports,  you  could  find  very 
little  close  family  resemblance,  and  would  feel  sure 
that  the  young  bird  was  no  true  child  of  the  other. 

But  where  are  the  bird's  own  brood?  Did  she 
have  none,  and  has  she  adopted  an  orphan  ? 

This  is  the  sad  part  of  the  story,  for  even  in  Bird 
World  there  are  some  very  rascally  characters,  it 
would  seem,  and  the  truth  about  them  must  be  told. 
The  little  Vireo  or  Redstart  had  built  her  nest  and 
laid  her  eggs  in  it;  but  one  morning,  while  she  had 
left  it  for  a  moment  to  get  food,  a  larger  bird  had 
come  sneaking  through  the  bushes  and  had  dropped 
her  own  big  egg  into  the  nest,  among  the  pretty  little 
ones  that  really  belonged  there. 

When  the  Vireo  or  Redstart  came  back,  she  expected 
to  settle  herself  comfortably  on  the  nest,  with  her  bill 
and  tail  and  little  black  eye  just  showing  over  the 
edge,  to  brood  and  brood  all  the  long  day.  What 's 
to  be  done?  She  calls  in  great  excitement  to  her 
mate,  and  the  pair  have  a  long  consultation,  but  they 
are  not  strong  to  throw  the  egg  out,  and  if  they  desert 
the  nest  their  own  precious  eggs  will  never  hatch,  so 
they  decide  to  make  the  best  of  it,  not  knowing  that 
what  they  call  best  is  really  the  very  worst.  For,  as 
soon  as  the  mother  settles  down,  the  big  egg  gets  all 


FOSTER-MOTHERS. 


^25 


the  warmth  of  her  body,  and  hatches  a  day  or  two 
before  the  others,  or  if  they  hatch  at  the  same  time, 
the  big  stranger  needs  so  much  more  food  that  the 
real  children  are  in  danger  of  being  but  half  fed. 

It  is  a  sad  story,  is  it  not?  The  lazy  Cowbird 
mother  shirks  all  the  work  which  we  praise  birds  for 
doing.  She  makes  no  nest,  she  takes  no  pains  to  feed 
and  protect  her  young.  All  her  life  she  simply  eats 
and  sleeps  and  looks  about  her  for  some  smaller  bird 
whom  she  can  deceive. 

The  pleasant  part  of  the  story  is  the  kindness  of 
the  poor  Redstart  mother  to  her  foster-child.  She  has 
probably  lost  her  own  brood,  but  instead  of  pecking 
the  stranger  to  death,  she  feeds  him,  working  day 
after  day  over  him  till  he  is  big  enough  to  fly  away, 
which  he  does  without  a  word  of  thanks. 

Do  you  wonder  how  the  Cowbird  came  by  so  odd 
a  name  ?  Like  most  bird  names,  some  habit  of  the 
bird  suggested  it.  These  birds  are  often  seen  in 
small  flocks  following  cattle  in  pastures.  It  does  not 
require  great  shrewdness  to  guess  that  it  is  not  the 
cows,  but  the  insects  to  be  found  upon  them  in  warm 
weather,  that  attract  the  birds.  If  they  do  service  to 
the  cattle,  we  are  glad  to  give  them  credit,  but  it  is  said, 
on  good  authority,  that  every  Cowbird  means  the  loss 
of  a  whole  brood  of  Redstarts,  Yellow  Warblers,  Vireos, 
or  other  birds  of  which  we  cannot  have  too  many. 


"■*^ 


■  ■  *'}'»?^ 


..■■•S'i^'-- 


TWO  FATHER  BIRDS. 


'   il 


YOU  have  discovered  before  now  that  birds,  like 
people,  have  very  different  habits  and  characters. 
Even  in  the  birds  about  you,  the  difference  between 
a  lazy  Cowbird  mother  and  such  a  careful,  loving 
parent  as  the  Grouse  is  very  noticeable. 

The  birds  I  am  going  now  to  tell  you  about  are 
natives  of  countries  far  from  America.  One  is  well 
known  to  you ;  some  of  you  have  perhaps  seen  an 
Ostrich  at  a  circus.  The  other  is  not  nearly  so 
famous,  but  he  is  almost  as  interesting.  He  belongs 
to  the  sandpiper  family,  and  is  called  the  Ruff. 

The  Rutf's  name  comes  probably  from  a  wonderful 
collar  of  feathers  which  grow  each  spring  beneath  and 
around  his  throat.  They  are  so  thick  that  they  form 
a  shield,  and  the  bird  uses  them,  as  such.  The  Ruffs 
choose  places  to  which  they  return  each  night  simply 
to  fence  with  their  bills.  These  bills  are  long  but  not 
very  sharp,  so  that  they  never  injure  each  other,  but 
they  fight  as  fiercely  as  if  they  meant  to  kill  one 
another.  Many  male  birds  of  other  kinds  fight  in  the 
breeding  season,  but  with  the  Ruffs  it  seems  to  be 
merely  for  the  sake  of  fighting,  for  they  keep  it  up 
even  after  the  female  is  sitting  on  her  eggs.  Instead 
of  keeping  near  her,  as  many  males  do,  to  protect  her 


nVO   FATHER    BIRDS. 


127 


and  the  nest  from  enemies,  the  Ruff  spends  his  time 
with  the  other  males,  fighting  continual  duels,  until 
the  summer  comes.  Then  his  collar  gradually  drops 
off,  and  the  males  that  have  been  fighting  all  the 
spring  go  off  together  in 
peaceful  flocks. 

The  male  Ostrich  has 
a  very  different  charac- 
ter from  the  quarrelsome 
and  neglectful  Ruff.  The 
Ostrich,  like  our  barn- 
yard rooster,  has  several 
hens.  All  lay  eggs  in  the 
same  nest,  which  is  noth- 
ing but  a  pit  scraped  out 
in  the  sand.  In  this 
sometimes  thirty  eggs  are  laid.  Every  night  the  male 
Ostrich  broods  on  this  great  pile.  If  the  young  are 
threatened,  the  male  defends  them,  or  tries  to  lead  the 
enemy  astray  by  pretending  that  he  is  wounded  or 
lame,  just  as  the  mother  Grouse  does  here. 

Of  the  two  fathers,  the  Ruff  is  by  far  the  hand- 
somer. The  bare  red  neck  of  the  Ostrich  is  ugly 
enough,  but  uglier  when  compared  with  the  Ruff's 
fine  collar.  Ask  their  wives,  however,  about  it,  and 
perhaps  they  will  say,  "  Handsome  is  that  handsome 
does." 


Fig.  24.— The  Ruff. 


BORN  IN    A  BOAT. 


sn 


THERE  is  no  bird  more  skilful  in  diving  than  the 
Grebe.  He  has  a  trick  of  sinking  out  of  sight 
which  is  so  wonderful  that  you  hardly  believe  that  the 
bird  has  been  in  sight  at  all.  Or  if  he  is  in  a  hurry 
he  turns  head  over  heels  like  a  duck,  and  then  the 
game  is  to  guess  where  he  will  come  up.  It  may  be 
to  the  right,  to  the  left,  far  or  near,  and  sometimes 
you  will  think  he  has  never  come  up  at  all.  If  a 
Grebe  is  fired  ar,  he  will  start  at  the  flash  of  the 
powder  and  be  safe  under  water  before  the  shot 
reaches  the  spot  where  he  was. 

When  the  mother  Grebe  is  swimming  about  with 
her  little  ones,  teaching  them  to  dive  after  minnows 
and  bolt  them  down  whole,  she  will  often  take  them 
for  a  very  curious  ride.  They  get  on  her  back,  grasp 
her  feathers  tightly  with  their  feet,  and  she  dives 
while  they  hold  bravely  on.  I  watched  a  mother 
once  who  had  only  a  single  chick,  though  the  family 
is  usually  large.  When  the  pair  saw  me,  the  little 
fellow  swam  to  his  mother  and  she  prepared  to  take 
him  down  in  the  usual  wav.  But  either  she  went  too 
fast  or  he  lost  his  hold,  for  when  she  disappeared  he 
was  washed  off,  and  sat  there  bobbing  up  and  down 


BORN  IN  A    BOAT. 


129 


on  the  ripple  she  had  left,  turning  about  like  a  walnut 
shell,  the  picture  of  helplessness  and  loneliness. 

I  wonder  what  the  poor  mother  thought  when  she 
came  up  in  some  quiet  spot  and  found  that  her  baby 
had  been  lost.  She  did  not  return  while  I  waited, 
but  I  have  no  doubt  they  were  soon  reunited,  and  very 
glad  she  must  have  been  that  it  was  only  a  wave  that 
had  carried  him  off,  and  not  a  snake  or  a  pickerel. 

But  you  are  waiting  to  hear  about  the  boat  in  which 
he  was  born.  It  does  n't  sail  about,  it  is  true,  but  it 
is  really  a  boat  at  anchor. 

The  mother  Grebe  makes  a  nest  of  coarse  reeds 
woven  together.  The  nest  is  fastened  to  reeds  that 
are  growing  out  of  the  water,  and  often  rests  upon 
the  water.  It  gets  water  soaked,  of  course,  but  the 
shell,  with  its  lining  of  skin,  keeps  the  moisture  out. 
The  eggs  are  kept  warm  by  the  mother  bird,  and 
warm  moisture  does  not  keep  the  young  from 
hatching. 

Grebes  are  most  graceful  in  the  water,  but  seem 
out  of  place  on  shore.  Their  feet  are  placed  so  far 
back  in  their  bodies  that  they  can  hardly  walk  or 
stand. 


>' 


4, 


1 


i  ^ 


lit 


I"  ''i 


HOW  THE  WOOD  DUCK  GETS  HER   YOUNG 
TO  THE  WATER. 

AV  E  R  Y  interesting  story  it  would  make  to  describe 
all  the  modes  by  which  young  children  and 
animals  are  carried  from  place  to  place  by  their 
parents.  The  Indian  papoose  travels  long  distances 
on  its  mother's  back;  young  opossums  also  ride  on 
their  mothers'  backs,  but  to  get  a  firmer  hold  wind 
their  little  tails  round  that  of  their  mother.  The 
mother  kangaroo  keeps  her  little  children  in  a  pouch 
or  fold  of  her  skin ;  little  toads,  of  one  kind,  live  in 
holes  in  their  mother's  back. 

Young  birds  do  little  traveling  before  they  learn 
to  use  their  wings  or  legs.  The  Wood  Duck,  Yinvj- 
ever,  builds  her  nest  in  the  hollow  of  a  tree,  and  when 
the  young  ducks  hatch,  she  wishes,  like  all  other 
ducks,  to  introduce  them  at  once  to  the  water.  You 
have  seen  a  mother  cat  carry  her  kittens  in  her  mouth. 
She  holds  them  tight,  but  does  not  hurt  them.  So 
the  Wood  Duck  takes  her  downy  little  ducklings  with 
her  broad  bill  and  flies  to  the  ground.  Her  family  is 
large ;  over  a  dozen  trips  are  sometimes  needed  from 
the  nest  to  the  ground.  Then  the  procession  starts 
off  for  the  water,  and  the  little  ducks  paddle  off  as 
easily  as  if  they  had  not  been  born  on  land. 


;~-^'  *J!%ivikiVv. 


THE  GREAT  CARAVAN  ROUTE. 

WOU  remember  that  the  old  (irouse  boasted  that 
*  he  kept  warm  and  well  fed  even  when  the  ground 
was  frozen  and  covered  with  snow.  If  you  were  to 
walk  through  his  woods  in  January,  you  would  find 
tracks  in  the  snow,  and  at  last  he  would  start  up  from 
under  the  bushes  ahead  of  you,  with  a  whirr  that 
would  frighten  you  the  first  time  you  heard  it.  And 
when  he  had  flown  off,  how  silent  the  woods  would 
be !  You  might  walk  for  miles  and  meet  less  than 
half  a  dozen  birds. 

In  spring  the  edges  of  the  woods  and  the  fields 
near  by  would  ring  with  bird  music,  but  now  a  few 
lisping  notes  from  the  Kinglets  and  Chickadees,  the 
scream  of  a  Blue  Jay,  or  the  caw  of  a  Crow  would  be 
the  only  sounds  made  by  birds. 

Not  quite  the  only  ones,  after  all,  for  the  little 
Downy  Woodpecker  pays  his  visits  to  the  grubs  at 
all  seasons,  and  wakes  them  from  their  winter  sleep 
by  knocking  politely  at  their  doors. 

Where  have  the  birds  gone }  Where  is  the  Oven- 
bird,  a..^;  the  Tanager?  Where  are  the  thrushes 
and  the  vireos.? 

It  is  easy  to  tell  you  where  they  are,  but  much 
harder  to  say  how  they  got  there.     If  you  wished  to 


l.V. 


BJKD    WOHI.D. 


visit  ihe  i^i.!lKls  wlicre  those  birds  winter,  the  forests 
where  flowers  .ilways  bloom  and  insects  are  never 
killed  by  frost,  ^ou  must  go  either  by  train  to  IHor- 
ida,  and  t  i  .lossby  steamer  from  Tan, pa  Bay  to 
Havana,  <  •  :uw  can  take  other  steam'^rs  which  sail 
directly  nom  lj(  ston.  New  York,  and  other  eastern 
cities  to  '">  ^\''.s!.  Indies.  Unless  yoit  live  on  some 
main  liu:.  vf>v!  '''i^  ha  e  first  to  tra^  >. !  a  shorter  or 
longer  di  'uncc,  as  the  case  may  be  by  sifle  lines, 
which  bring  you  ;u  Hie  big  city  where  the  steamers 
or  the  fast  express  trains  start.  The  birds,  as  you 
know,  can  take  neither  train  nor  boat.  How  is  it 
they  are  in  New  1  ngland  ii.  September,  and  in 
November  already  in  Cuba? 

You   may    have    read    how    from    Samai   and    or 
Irkutsk  the  lines  of  camels  stai  i  for  a  long  and  diffi- 
cult journey  across  the  ti'sert.     Many  fall  exhausted 
by  the  way,  or  are  attacked  ad  killed  by  highway- 
men.    Merchants,    often   of  different    tribes,    for'  i   a 
company    for    mutual    protection.       In    tlie     Vfr    an 
deserts  the  caravans  tinci   pleasant  s})Ots  ca,    d  oas* 
where  they  halt  to  refresh  tliemselves  fron^    he  \ 
or  springs,  and  to  rest  a  little   before  the     take 
their  journeving  again. 

The  birds,  too,  form  caravans  before  th*.  •  start  on 
their  long  j<'urn'*ys  in  the  fall.  They  h  e  their 
meeting  places  where  differtiit  tribes  a.ssenibi       Thr-'. 


TIIH    'iKF.ir  C.I/iAl   iX  A'Ol   .  F. 


^n 


an    the  Nhips  of  the  air  as  the    .uik  l^  arc  ships  of  the 
desert. 

Oftfii  lue  caravan  is  overt,  vCn  b)  a  storm  and 
many  birds  die,  or,  v\  len  they  are  resting  in  some 
friendly   thi-ket  or  g     ve    v  bbers  in   the  shape  of 

It  is  by  iiO  nicrii-.s  an  easy 
tar  the  larger  part  of  the  birds 
ic  summei   mak'    it  not  once  but 


hav  ks  aiiarl    thc^i 
joi       y,  and  y"t,  n, 


that  are  vvi 
twice  \  yt 
Sonv 
3  diflT   iilt> 


a>  ir 


leard 

f  fb 

froi; 
whi 


o  '     v-el  by  da\    cind  these  have 
.ng  way.     Many  of  you  have 

he  1     asant  autu    ii  days,  far  above,  the  honk 
Id  gt  ese,  and  you  can  imaiine  that  the  old 
»t  the  head  of  the  great  V-sha  ed  line,  can  find, 
ill     great  height,  landmarks  ir    ;vr  rs  and  lakes 
!  h(.  has  passed  before  and  n?      mbers. 
*^  most  of  the  birds  go  by  nig.  you  think  of 

\.        ibh  '- hawks  you  will  guess  wli  nd  for  them 

hi    ioun    y  is  far  harder.     But  even  ight,  if  it  is 

c  ear,  poi.ds  shine  and  the  mountains,  loom  up  dark 
n  d  large,  and  the  old  birds  that  have  been  that  way 
before  find  landmarks  to  steer  by. 

They  call  from  t-'ino  to   time,  and  the  rest  of  the 

caravan  coming  behmd  answer  them.     On  they  fly 

t      dawn,  when  they  drop  down,  tired  and  hungry,  to 

est  through  the  day,  and  perhaps  for  several  days, 

before  they  take  another  night  journey. 


134 


BIRD    WORLD. 


I  • 


I  I 

I  I- 

I 


It  is  while  they  are  resting  in  this  way  in  the 
thickets,  or  perhaps  in  the  orchards  or  gardens  of  the 
towns,  that  men  who  are  fond  of  birds  discover  them 
and  learn  how  they  are  getting  on  in  their  journeys. 
It  may  come  about  some  time  that  a  telegram  may  be 
sent  to  the  daily  papers  saying  that  such  and  such 
birds  are  at  Charleston  or  Savannah  or  Tampa.  This 
would  please  many  readers,  but  we  must  wait  till  we 
are  much  more  kindhearted  than  many  people  are 
now,  or  it  would  be  no  kindness  to  the  birds. 

If  you  were  to  go  out  some  morning  in  September 
and  find  strange  birds  in  your  garden  scratching 
under  the  currant  bushes,  or  merely  hiding  and  resting, 
and  the  next  morning  find  them  missing,  you  would 
know  that  your  city  or  town  was  on  the  great  caravan 
route  from  the  frozen  north  to  the  sunny  south. 


As  for  myself,  I  am  turned  hammock  contractor 
for  the  Orioles,  taking  my  pay  in  "  notes."  I  throw 
strings  out  of  the  window  and  they  snap  at  them  at 
once.  They  sit  in  the  cherry  tree  hard  by  and  war- 
ble, "  Hurry  up,  hurry  up !"  I  never  found  out  before 
just  what  they  said.  But  if  you  listen  you  will  find 
that  this  is  what  they  first  say.  —  Lowell. 


BIRD  WORLD  IN  WINTER. 

WE  will  go  well  out  of  city  or  village,  and,  as 
birds  are  creatures  of  habit,  we  will  take 
counsel  of  some  one  whose  long  acquaintance  with 
them  has  let  him  into  their  secrets,  to  know  where  to 
find  them. 

Are  we  afraid  to  venture  out  directly  after  a  storm  ? 
The  way  to  some  partial  clearing  in  the  woods  may 
be  rough,  but  where  tiny  birds  can  be  merry  and 
ligh'  hearted  we  will  not  mind  if  the  frost  stings  our 
ears  and  finger-tips. 

The  woods  in  this  case  are  in  Ohio,  and  the  one  to 
tell  us  of  them  is  Mr.  Leander  S.  Keyser.  The  first 
sound  that  echoes  through  the  woods  is  the  vigorous 
bugle  of  the  hardy  Carolina  Wren.  The  most  of  the 
winter  birds  go  in  straggling  flocks,  but  this  little 
hero  of  many  storms  is  apt  to  be  alone. 

Mr.  Chapman  calls  this  restless,  excitable  bird  a 
"  feathered  Jack-in-a-box,"  bobbing  about,  gesticulating 
with  his  expressive  tail,  and  seldom  in  sight  more 
than  a  minute  at  a  time.  He  sings  as  he  goes,  with 
a  vocabulary  so  rich  he  has  been  called  the  Mocking 
Wren. 

How  can  we  help  shivering  to  see  a  little  commu- 
nity of  Tree  Sparrows  holding  a  winter  carnival  in 


I  i 


I  { 


■- « 


I  u 


ft 


136 


BMn    WORLD. 


the  new-fallen  snow  ?  When  once  we  have  had  their 
tracks  or  footprints  pointed  out  to  us,  we  may  be  sure 
we  shall  find  them  in  our  own  neighborhoods  also  in 
winter.  In  the  wildest  wind  and  snow  flurries  the 
Tree  Sparrows  will  keep  up  their  cheerful  chirp,  while 
they  flit  about  on  the  snow  as  if  it  were  down,  picking 
seeds  from  grass  stems  and  weed  stalks.  Emerson 
defines  a  weed  as  a  plant  man  has  not  yet  found  a 
use  for.  We  and  the  sparrows  have  found  a  use  for 
weeds. 

Sometimes  the  tracks  showed  that  the  birds  had 
taken  a  bite,  as  it  were,  and  then  had  flitted  across 
the  snow  to  another  spot ;  deepened  hollows  showed 
where  they  had  wallowed  in  the  drifts  for  mere  fun, 
as  boys  delight  to  do.  Brave  little  sparrows,  you  are 
better  comrades  than  we  thought. 

"  I  have  seen  birds,"  says  Mr.  Keyser, "  taking  pool- 
baths,  shower-baths,  dew-baths,  and  dust-baths.  Who 
will  say  they  never  take  a  snow-bath } " 

Here  in  the  very  middle  of  winter  we  are  watching 
a  Ju-^co.  He  finds  a  feast  of  juicy  berries  on  the  dog- 
wood tree,  picks  one,  dashes  down  into  the  snow  and 
nibbles  it,  then  flings  the  seed  away,  standing  leg- 
deep  in  ice  crystals  until  he  has  eaten  it  up.  The 
rest  of  the  birds  eat  their  berries  where  they  find  them 
on  the  trees.  Tree  Sparrows  come  to  the  dogberry 
tree  also,  but  they  reject  the  pulp  and  bore  the  pit  for 


ran 


^vmmimm 


^9m 


WINTER    LIFE. 
KINGLETS.  A   BROWN   CREEPER 


i 


tl 


[:• 


BIRD   WORLD   IN  WINTER. 


^n 


its  tiny  kernel,  while  Robins,  Bluebirds,  and  the  rest 
swallow  the  berry  whole  when  they  come  to  it. 

One  little  story  that  Mr.  Keyser  tells  shall  end  our 
January  visit.     It  is  about  a  Junco. 

"  From  a  cornfield  I  witnessed  a  little  scene  that 
filled  me  with  delight.  At  some  distance  I  perceived 
a  snowbird  eating  seeds  from  the  raceme  of  a  tall 
weed,  which  bent  over  in  a  graceful  arch  beneath  its 
dainty  burden.  I  climbed  the  fence  and  crept  cau- 
tiously nearer  to  get  a  better  view  of  the  little  diner- 
out.  What  kind  of  a  discovery  do  you  suppose  I 
made }     I  could  scarcely  believe  my  eyes. 

"  There  beneath  the  weed,  hopping  about  on  the 
snow,  were  a  Tree  Sparrow  and  a  Junco,  picking  up 
the  seeds  that  their  companion  above  was  shaking 
down.  It  was  such  a  pretty  little  comedy  that  I 
laughed  aloud  for  pure  delight.  It  seemed  for  all  the 
world  like  a  boy  in  an  apple  tree  shaking  down  the 
mellow  fruit  for  his  playmates,  who  were  gathering  it 
from  the  ground  as  it  fell.  Farther  on  in  the  woods 
I  saw  a  Junco  dart  up  to  a  weed  too  small  to  afford 
him  a  comfortable  perch,  give  it  a  shake  which  would 
bring  down  a  quantity  of  seeds,  and  then  flit  below 
and  eat  them  from  the  white  tablecloth." 


n 


( 


B7TID   LODGINGS   IN  WINTER. 

\yW"E  have  been  told  what  Robins  do  at  night;  but 
»  »  Robindom  is  but  a  small  part  of  Bird  World. 
It  does  not  matter  mi'ch  on  summer  nights,  but  in 
early  February  and  March,  or  even  in  the  storms  of 
April  and  May,  we  might  rest  better  if  we  knew  just 
how  the  birds  we  were  so  glad  to  see  in  the  morning 
sunshine  were  faring  now  that  the  sun  has  cone  down. 
It  is  quite  plain  that  nothing  troubles  a  bird  much 
but  fear  ()f  enemies  and  scarcity  of  food.  If  he  can 
keep  the  little  heart  within  him  warm  and  safe,  he 
will  make  a  merry  life.  Since  it  was  found  out  what 
Robins  do,  bird  students  have  been  watching  late  and 
rising  before  dawn  to  solve  the  kindly  problem  of 
birds'  night  quarters. 

The  first  thought  is  that  they  would  be  in  bushes 
and  trees  ;  but  it  seems  that  the  Snowbirds  are  much 
more  likely  to  be  on,  or  in,  or  near  the  ground,  unless 
they  find  holes  in  old  trees  as  woodpeckers  do.  In 
little  mounds  of  sod  thrown  up  by  the  frost  a  neat 
little  entrance  has  often  been  found  to  lead  to  the 
snug,  cosy  bedroom  of  a  Snowbird.  Little  hollowed 
places,  such  as  field  m.ice  make  in  summer,  have  been 
taken  and,  with  a  little  grass  pulled  over,  have  sheltered 


BIRD  LODGINGS  IN  WINTER. 


139 


Juncos  as  nicely  as  could  be  wished.  A  brush  pile 
left  by  wood-choppers  has  given  protection  to  some 
little  mixed  colony.     Tall  grass  will  de  Meadow- 

larks  and   Red-winged   Blackbirds,  and  ^  bushes, 

into  which  the  owl  or  bigger  creatures  could  not 
crawl,  may  protect  a  spot  where  a  covering  of  leaves 
makes  comfort  enough  for  the  brave  little  sojourners. 
If  we  stop  to  think,  we  shall  see  that  a  tall  tree  top 
would  be  a  much  colder  place  ;  and  while  the  birds 
will  make  the  best  of  what  they  have,  they  will  seek 
far  to  find  comfort. 


THE  BIRD. 

Hither  thou  com'st.     The  busy  wind  all  night 
Blew  through  thy  lodging,  where  thy  own  warm  wing 
Thy  pillow  was.     Many  a  sullen  storm, 
For  which  coarse  man  seems  much  the  fitter  born, 

Rain'd  on  thy  bed 

And  harmless  head  ; 
And  now  as  fresh  and  cheerful  as  the  light 
Thy  little  heart  in  early  hymns  doth  sing 
Unto  the  IVovidence,  whose  unseen  arm 
Curb'd  them,  and  cloth'd  thee  well  and  warm. 
All  things  that  be  praise  Him  ;  and  had 
Their  lesson  taught  them  when  first  made. 

Henry  Vaughan. 


THE   EAGLE. 


m 


i 

! 


IT  is  hard  to  tell  just  how  the  Bald  Eagle  came  to  be 
our  national  emblem.  It  certainly  is  not  from  the 
character  of  the  bird,  for  he  is  a  sort  of  tramp,  and 
sometimes  even  a  thief.  I  think  it  must  have  been 
from  his  splendid  power  of  flight,  and  the  fine  appear- 
ance he  makes  when  he  is  soaring  high  in  the  sky. 
An  eagle  with  his  great  wings  outspread  looks  so 
majestic  and  so  powerful  that  he  might  easily,  in  such 
an  attitude,  represent  the  power  and  greatness  of  a 
nation. 

Watch  a  Bald  Eagle  getting  his  dinner,  and  much 
of  your  respect  for  him  will  vanish.  If  he  does  not 
steal  it,  he  picks  it  up  here  and  there  like  a  street- 
dog,  —  a  dead  fish  by  the  shore  of  a  lake,  or  a  dead 
lamb  which  the  dogs  have  killed.  He  often  watches 
an  Osprey  or  Fishhawk  till  he  sees  him  catch  a  fish, 
and  then  chases  him  till  the  hawk  with  a  scream  ot 
disappointment  drops  the  meal  for  which  he  has 
worked.  The  eagle  pi  I:s  it  up,  and  enjoys  the  ill- 
gotten  food. 

Let  us  try  to  gain  for  our  national  er  ^em  such  a 
reputation  that  people  will  think  only  cs  the  power 
and  majesty  of  the  eagle,  and  forget  his  lazy  and 
thievish  habits. 


THE   CHICKADEE. 


A  POET  was  once  walking  in  the  Concord  woods 
in  winter.  The  snow  was  deep ;  it  was  bitterly 
cold ;  his  home  was  a  long  way  off.  He  stumbled 
along,  feeling  so  dis- 
couraged and  so  help- 
less that  it  seemed  as 
though  he  must  give 
up  the  struggle. 

Just  then  he  heard  a 
bright,  cheerful  note, 
and  in  the  twigs  above 
him  he  saw  a  Chicka- 
dee hopping  about  as 
gaily  as  if  it  were 
spring,  and  calling  such 
a  brisk  greeting  that  it 
seemed  he  must  be 
really  glad  to  see  a  fellow-traveler. 

The  poet  felt  ashamed  that  such  a  "little  scrap  of 
valor  "  could  face  the  storm  all  day  and  all  night,  with- 
out ever  losing  his  courage  or  even  his  cheerfulness; 
he  determined  to  take  the  bird  for  his  model,  and  like 
him  be  merry  and  brave,  no  matter  how  discouraging 
life  might  sometimes  seem. 


Fig.  2;.  —  Chickadee. 


I 


f  i 


\ 


:  I 


I 


>  ! 


l^ff^^ 


A   BIRD-PARADISE. 

MANY  of  the  islands  in  the  I'acific  Ocean  are  so 
small  that  no  people  live  on  them  ;  but  they  are 
large  enough  for  multitudes  of  birds  to  make  them 
their  homes.  Winter  never  comes  to  these  islands, 
and  the  birds  spend  their  whole  lives  on  the  same 
spot  where  they  and  their  forefathers  were  born. 

Occasionally  it  happens  that  vessels  touch  at  these 
islands,  that  their  crew  may  get  fresh  water  or  explore 
the  shores  and  draw  maps  such  as  you  have  in  your 
geographies.  When  these  sailors  or  map-makers  land, 
they  find  to  their  surprise  that  the  birds  have  no  fear 
of  their  strange  visitors. 

Instead  of  flying  to  the  tops  of  trees  or  hiding  in 
bushes,  the  birds  walk  about  men's  feet  or  light  on 
their  shoulders.  When  some  men  rode  on  horses,  the 
birds  lighted  on  the  backs  of  the  horses  and  picked  at 
the  saddles  to  see  what  these  new  contrivances  were. 
When  one  explorer  was  picking  up  shells  along  the 
beach,  a  little  bird  followed  him,  almost  snatching  the 
shells  out  of  his  hands  in  its  curiosity  to  know  what 
the  man  was  doing. 

Why  were  the  birds  so  fearless  ?  They  were  no  more 
stupid  than  their  cousins  here.     Their  courage  came 


'  ^^"fii^firs^aEs^ir^R 


--/    rURD-rARADJSK. 


H3 


from  their  ignorance  of  the  harm  men  could  do.  No 
men  had  ever  hunted  them.  The  guns  which  they 
saw  and  the  noise  of  the  firing  meant  nothing  to 
them ;  to  our  birds  it  means  broken  wings  and  blood- 
stained feathers. 

It  seems  a  pity,  does  it  not,  that  it  is  only  where 
man  is  not  known  that  he  is  not  feared.  If  we  all 
had  treated  birds  kindly,  man  would  be  loved  best 
where  he  is  best  known. 


LiTTi.E  birds  sit  on  the  telegraph  wires 

And  chitter,  and  flitter,  and  fold  their  wings , 

Maybe  they  thinic  that  for  them  and  their  sires, 
Stretched  always,  on  purpose,  those  wonderful  strings, 

And  perhaps  the  Thought  that  the  world  inspires 
Did  plan  for  the  birds,  among  other  things. 

Little  things  light  on  the  lines  of  our  lives,  — 

Hopes  and  joys  and  acts  of  to-day, 
And  we  think  that  for  these  the  Lord  contrives, 

Nor  c  tch  what  the  hidden  lightnings  say; 
Yet,  from  end  to  end.  His  meaning:  arrives, 

And  His  word  runs,  underneath,  all  the  way. 

•Mrs.  a.  u.  T.  VVhitnev. 


^BSSLn.i^ms^^^^mES^^'*:. 


'^ 


^'i-:.. 


THE  SEA-GULL. 

FAR  f'om  the  loud  sea  beaches, 
Where  he  goes  fishing  and  crying 
Here  in  the  inland  garden, 
Why  is  the  sea-gull  flying? 

Here  are  no  fish  to  dive  for ; 

Here  is  the  corn  and  lea ; 
Here  are  the  green  trees  rustling 

Hie  away  home  to  the  sea! 

Fresh  is  the  river  water. 

And  quiet  among  the  rushes; 
This  is  no  home  for  the  sea-gull, 

But  for  the  rooks  and  thrushes. 

Pity  the  bird  that  has  wandered  * 

Pity  the  sailor  ashore ! 
Hurry  him  home  to  the  ocean. 

Let  him  come  here  no  more ! 

High  on  the  sea-cliff  ledges. 

The  white  gulls  are  trooping  and  crying ; 
Here  among  rooks  and  roses, 

Why  is  the  sea-gull  flying  ? 

Robert  Louis  Stevenson. 


HERRING   GULLS   AND   THEIR    NESTING   PLACES. 


H-' 


I  J'l^i'1lifsr'^A^\**■rl^^^w^ 


A  GREAT  TRAVELER. 

A  good  south  wind  sprung  up  behind, 
The  Albatross  did  follow, 
And  every  day,  for  food  or  play. 
Came  to  the  mariner's  hollo ! 

in  mist  or  cloud,  on  mast  or  shroud. 

It  perched  for  vespers  nine  ; 

While  all  the  night,  through  fog-smoke  white, 

Glimmered  the  white  moonshine. 

IF  the  little  birds  went  to  school  instead  of  being 
*  taught  at  home,  what  do  you  suppose  would  be 
the  most  important  study  ?  Arithmetic  ?  No,  indeed. 
The  very  wisest  of  them  can't  count  up  to  ten.  Gram- 
mar ?  Not  at  all.  They  don't  even  know  the  Parts 
of  Speech,  though  they  have  certainly  heard  Excla- 
mations enough. 

Would  it  be  geography.?  Yes.  I  suppose  most 
birds  would  have  to  have  geography  every  day  in  the 
week.  At  any  rate,  the  old  birds  know  enough  about 
it,  and  practice  almost  every  hour  what  they  know. 

The  old  Grouse  you  read  about  knew  every  bush 
and  clump  of  ferns  in  his  swamp,  and  the  little  paths 
which  led  up  to  the  hill,  and  the  pine  grove  above  the 
swamp.     He  knew  its  products  and  its  climate,  where 


mil    iiimi  III  II  III  iwliiiiii  imii  iii  im  ■  ii  w 


146 


BIRD    WO  A' LP. 


the  buds  and  berries  grew,  and  wliat  kind  of   wind 
and  sky  meant  rain. 

But,  after  all,  the  Grouse  would  not  have  been  the 
best  teacher  of  geography  the  birds  could  have  found 
for  their  school.  He  knew  the  swamp  and  the  woods 
around  it,  but  a  j;jurney  to  the  next  swamp  would 
have  seemed  to  him  quite  a  long  one. 

In  fact,  you  remember,  he  rather  prided  himself  on 
being  a  -rtay-at-home,  and  when  his  friend  the  Oven- 
bird  told  him  about  the  beautiful  southern  forests,  I 
can  fancy  him  listening  politely,  but  not  carin;^-  much 
about  them. 

1  he  Ovenbird  would  make  a  better  teacher,  would 
he  not  ?  Think,  for  a  moment,  what  he  sees  every 
year  of  his  life:  the  dry  oak  woods  of  the  north  are 
his  home  in  the  summer;  he  knows  them  almost  as 
well  as  the  Grouse  does,  and  can  find  his  way  about 
from  the  little  brook  where  the  fat  spiders  live,  to  the 
dry  bank  where  his  mate  has  built  her  little  oven. 
Then  in  October  he  spends  a  few  days  in  New  York 
State,  flies  across  the  broad  Hudson,  and  then  on  to 
the  shores  of  Chesapeake  Bay.  A  week  or  two  later 
he  would  be  taking  his  way  over  the  fallen  needles  of 
the  great  Georgia  pines,  and  the  next  week  watching 
the  alligators  in  a  Florida  swamp. 

Here  a  few  of  his  friends  think  it  warm  enough 
to  spend  the  winter,  but  he  flies  over  the  warm  Gulf 


A    GREAT  TRAVELER. 


H7 


Stream,  over  the  coral  islands,  and  comes  to  some 
little  island  of  the  West  Indies,  where  the  great  palms 
wave  along  the  shore.  Here  there  are  spiders  enough 
for  him  and  for  all  his  northern  and  southern  friends. 

He  sees  the  beautiful  white  Herons  and  the  red 
Flamingoes,  but  side  by  side  with  him  in  the  bushes 
are  some  friends  who  have  made  the  long  journey 
from  the  north  in  his  company,  Maryland  Yellow- 
throats  and  Summer  Yellowbirds,  and  higher  up  in 
the  trees  Redstarts  and  Vireos. 

While  the  Grouse  is  up  in  the  pine  trees  where  the 
snow  is  falling  steadily,  the  Ovenbird  hides  in  thicke"st 
bushes  from  the  West  Indian  hurricanes,  which  lash 
the  tall  palms  on  the  shore. 

But  your  geography  teacher  tells  you  about  lands 
further  away,  —  about  the  white  snow  fields  of  Green- 
land, about  the  great  Pacific  Ocean,  and  the  wonder- 
ful jungles  of  India,  where  the  tigers  steal  through 
the  long  grass ;  or  the  forests  of  the  Amazon  on  our 
own  side  of  the  world,  where  the  monkeys  make  rope- 
laJders  of  themselves  over  the  streams. 

I  do  not  think  there  is  any  bird  that  has  seen  all 
these  places;  the  great  white  Owl  has  traveled  much 
in  the  north,  and  could  tell  many  an  interesting  story 
of  the  hare  and  the  grouse,  which  try  to  escape  his 
keen  eyes  by  turning  white  themselves  in  winter. 

But  he  never  ventures  into  the  Amazon  forests  or 


■vWlrrMi  mtk  r,' 


148 


B/J?D    IVOJiLD. 


the  Indian  jungle;  he  is  dressed  too  warmly  to  enjoy 
the  climate,  for  one  thing,  nor  does  he  understand  the 
kind  of  hunting  he  would  have  to  do  then  .  He 
needs  wide  plains  where  he  can  fly  silently  for  miles 
and  miles  until  he  finds  a  hare  crouching  behind  a 
hummock.  And  the  Toucan  of  Brazil  and  the  Horn- 
bill  of  India  would  find  no  fruit  in  the  barren  north 
country. 

Perhaps  the  greatest  traveler,  after  all,  is  the  bird 
mentioned  in  the  verses  at  the  head  of  this  story. 


Fig.  26.  -   Showing  Great  Length  of  Albatross'  Wings. 

This  traveler's  name  shows  his  manner  of  life,  —  the 
Wandering  Albatross.  He  travels  all  over  the  south- 
ern seas  from  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  to  Cape  Horn 
and  around  again;  people  have  watched  him  from 
their  ships,  and  every  one  who  has  seen  him  has 
wondered  at  his  huge  wings  and  the  skill  with  which 
he  uses  them. 

He  never  seems  to  hurry  or  to  work  hard,  even 
against  a  fierce  wind  ;  now  on  one  side  of  the  ship, 
now  on  the  otlicr,  now  low  over  tlie  water,  now  high 
in  the  air.  often  without  a  stroke  of  his  wings. 


A    GREAT   TRAVELER. 


149 


Perhaps  the  best  testimonial  he  could  bring,  when 
he  applied  for  his  position  as  Bird  School-teacher, 
would  be  the  following  record  taken  from  the  wing 
of  an  Albatross  which  the  captain  of  a  sailing  vessel 
had  caught : 

"'December  8th,  1847.  Ship  Euphrates,  Edwards,  New  Bed- 
ford. 16  months  out.  .  .  .  Lat.  43°  00'  South.  Long.  148°  40' 
West.     Thick,  foggy,  with  rain.' 

"  On  the  opposite  side  it  reads  :  '  This  was  taken  from  the  neck 
of  a  Goney  [Albatross],  on  the  coast  of  Chili,  by  Hiram  Luther, 
Dec.  20th,  1847.  In  Lat.  45°  50'  South.  Long.  78°  27'  West. 
Taken  out  of  a  small  bottle  tied  round  the  bird's  neck.' 

"The  shortest  distance  between  Capt.  Edwards's  position, 
.;bout  800  miles  east  of  New  Zealand,  and  Capt.  Luther's  position 
off  the  coast  of  Chili  in  the  vicinity  of  Juan  Fernandez,  is  about 
3400  miles.  The  bird,  therefore,  covered  at  least  this  distance  in 
the  twelve  days  which  intervened  between  its  release  and  capture." 


THE   REDSTART. 


IN  the  West  Indies,  although  there  are  many  bright- 
colored  birds  which  are  natives  of  the  islands,  our 
little  Redstart  is  known  as  Candelita,  the  little  torch. 

Unlike  several  of  the  bright-colored  birds,  such  as 
the  Tanager  and  the  Indigo  Bird,  he  does  not  lose  his 
brilliant  colors  in  the  autumn ;  the  orange  patches  on 
his  shoulders  gleam  against  his  black  head  all  winter 
in  the  tropical  forests,  where  he  flits  about,  spreading 
his  yellow  tail  and  catching  insects  among  the  leaves. 

By  May  he  is  back  in  New  England  helping  his 
mate  select  the  best  fork  in  a  tree  for  their  pretty 
nest.  If  you  see  the  female  searching  for  building 
material,  put  out  wool  or  cotton  batting,  and  for  a 
reward  you  may  see  where  she  flies  with  it  and  find 
the  nest. 

The  little  Redstart  is  one  of  the  unhappy  birds  on 
whom  the  Cowbird  forces  her  ugly  young  ones,  but 
he  brings  up  the  strangers  faithfully. 

Nothing  but  good  can  be  said  of  either  the  male  or 
the  female  Redstart ;  they  catch  countless  insects, 
cheer  us  by  their  beauty  and  pretty  ways,  and  bring 
lip  their  young  to  be  hard-working  and  cheerful  like 
themselves. 


^^'i< 


THE   HUMMING   BIRD. 

THERE  is  always  great  excitement  when  a  Hum- 
ming Bird's  nest  is  found.  It  is  so  rarely  seen, 
so  skilfullj'  and  beautifully  made,  that  it  seems  more 
like  a  bit  of  bird  life  from  fairy  land  than  a  real  bird's 
nest.  The  nest  is  generally  saddled  on  a  dead  twig 
and  covered  with  the  gray  lichen  which  clothes  dead 
twigs,  so  that  unless  you  see  the  little  mother  sitting 
in  it,  you  pass  it  by  for  a  gray,  lichen-covered  knob. 
Look  into  ii  and  see  the  two  tiny  white  eggs  not 
larger  than  pea  beans. 

If  the  nest  looks  like  that  of  a  fai)  y  bird,  th'^  parents 
look  even  more  like  strangers  in  ihe  Bird  World. 
Among  the  great  gaudy  flowers  of  the  tropics,  Hum- 
ming Birds  probably  seem  more  in  place.  Here, 
however,  their  quick  whirring  flight,  their  silence, 
their  sudden  coming  and  going,  make  the  sight  of 
one  something  to  remember  and  be  glad  for.  People 
who  love  flowers  and  live  among  them  are  oftenest 
visited  by  these  tiny  birds.  Often  the  bird  seems  to 
have  a  regular  route,  and  comes  to  the  same  garden 
and  the  same  flowers  at  nearly  the  same  hour  of  the 
day. 


"*■ 


J  V'iiri',rA»"r41Lif. 


»52 


HIKD    HON  1.1). 


If 


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Is 


n 


Oiice,  uhile  sitting  oti  a  piazza  in  the  country,  al^mg 
wlii  h  there  grew  many  lluwcrs  which  ti  ''  Humming 
liird  loved,  a  lady  saw  two  of  them  go  tli  igh  a  very 
remarkabU' and  beautifi  '  movement.  The  two  birds 
hovered  in  the  air  about  ten  feet  apart,  their  wings 
beating  so  fast  that  it  was  impossible  to  see  them. 
Suddenly  the  birds  shot  down  and  passed  each  other, 
then  up,  till  each  stopped  in  the  position  which  the 
other  one  had  held.  This  movement  they  repeated 
several  times.  It  seemed  as  if  the  birds  were  execut- 
ing some  beautiful  dance. 

South  and  North  America  are  the  only  countries 
which  possess  Humming  Birds.  In  the  eastern  part 
of  the  United  States  we  have  only  one  ,  pecies,  but 
in  California  several  are  found,  and  as  one  goes 
southward,  they  become  more  numerous;  in  South 
America  there  are  several  hundred  species.  Among 
these  are  some  of  the  most  gorgeous  colors  in  nature. 
The  throat  and  neck  feathers  particularly  shine  with 
changeable  colors,  like  brilliant  jewels.  The  bills  of 
the  bitds,  too,  are  extremely  interesting.  Some  are 
long  and  curved,  sf)  that  the  bird  can  feed  from  the 
honey  at  the  bottom  of  the  long  tube-like  flowers.  It 
is  a  sad  sight  in  South  America  to  see  the  boxes  of 
Humming  Birds'  skins  pulled  from  their  poor,  bleed- 
ing; little  bodies  and  sent  to  the  milliner's  to  decorate 


women  s 


hats. 


TIJF    'fUMMING   BJA'JJ, 


»53 


Our  Humming  Bird,  the  Ruby-throated,  lives,  as 
you  kn(.w,  on  the  sweet  nectar  of  flowers.  Birds 
often  fly  into  the  open  windows  in  summer,  and,  if 
caught,  are  easily  tamed.  They  will  live  on  sugar 
and  water,  and  many  stories  are  told  of  their  pretty 
ways  in  captivity.  The  prettiest  sight,  however,  must 
have  been  to  see  them  dart  off  happily  again  when 
their  captors  released  them. 

We  have  been  taught  how  many  plants  need  insects 
to  bring  their  pollen  for  some  other  plant  to  fertilize 
their  blossoms.  The  Humming  Bird  renders  this 
service.  We  are  not  sure  he  would  do  so  simply  for 
the  sweets  the  deep  chalices  contain,  but  he  knows 
that  where  honey  is  insects  are  sure  to  be,  and  he 
inserts  his  long  curved  bill. 

I  like  sometimes,  on  a  cool,  clear  night  in  Septem- 
ber, to  think  of  the  little  Humming  Birds  away  up  in 
the  darkness,  their  wings  buzzing  and  their  long  bills 
pointing  straight  for  the  West  Indies.  Twice  a  year 
the  little  mites  take  a  journey  of  thousands  of  miles  in 
the  night  times,  coming  back  when  our  spring  returns 
and  our  flowers  are  again  in  bloom. 

All  of  us  know  the  habit  of  the  Humming  Bird  of 
poising  himself  in  the  air  and  keeping  up  a  quick 
vibration  of  his  wings,  so  that  they  can  hardly  be  seen 
as  wings  at  all. 

Humming  Birds  are  said  to  be  little  centers  of  pas- 


MICROCOPY    RESOLUTION   TEST  CHART 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


1.0 


I.I 


2.8 

■  63 


J" 

2.0 
1.8 


1.25 


1.4 


^  /APPLIED  IIVMGE     Inc 

^^  1653   East    Main    Street 

S^S  Rochester.   New   York         14609       USA 

'-^  (716)    482  -  OJOO  -  Ptione 

^S  (716)   288  -  5989  -  Fax 


154 


BIRD    WORLD. 


sion  If  they  do  not  find  in  a  flower  the  honey  or 
insects  they  expected,  they  will  sometimes  tear  it  to 
pieces,  as  if  in  a  great  rage. 

The  Humming  Bird  nest  is  the  most  exquisite 
little  fabric  you  can  imagine.  It  is  like  a  fairy  thing 
Its  tiny  white  eggs  are  not  larger  than  the  smallest 
bean,  and  the  naked  little  ones  when  they  hatch  have 
been  compared  to  bluebottle  flies. 


u 


;l 


j,-,y  27.  _  Kose-breasted  Grosbeak. 


sJ-.-vA^'stvi^v  f3?^ii3    ,ini®3W!BP  ■■».'afl?:>7f  «*«  faia#s?s;<^r 


''•^^  ■'-^.Z-fC-'iL-l^''  mt^-Arr  ••>.^.^'ir;.ir'... 


AS   FREE  AS  A  BIRD. 


EVERY  good  thing  in  the  world  must  be  earned. 
A  bird  would  have  less  care  and  fewer  moments 
of  anxiety  if  it  lived  in  a  cage,  if  it  were  sheltered  in 
stormy  times,  protected  from  enemies,  and  provided 
with  food.  But  the  bird  prefers,  as  you  would,  I  hope, 
to  run  the  dangers  of  a  free  life  for  the  sake  of  its 
pleasures. 

In  ordinary  seasons,  and  for  the  greater  part  of  the 
year,  these  pleasures  are  many.  Chief  among  them 
in  the  case  of  many  birds  must  be  the  joy  of  having 
wings.  When  an  Ovenbird  mounts  high  in  air,  and 
then,  closing  his  wings,  shoots  down  a  hundred  feet 
or  more.  It  seems  as  if  he  must  enjoy  the  rush  of  the 
air  and  the  speed  of  his  flight. 

Hawks  often  soar  in  great  curves,  hardly  moving 
their  wings,  but  rising  on  the  up-current  of  air,  till 
they  seem  mere  specks  in  the  blue  sky.  They  do  this 
with  no  apparent  purpose,  but  as  if  it  were  a  sport. 
Some  of  the  water  birds  —  the  Gannets,  for  instance 
—  have  such  powerful  wings  that  the  fiercest  winds 
cannot  drive  them  out  of  their  course;  they  circle 
about  in  tremendous  storms  as  if  they  enjoyed  the 
wild  scene. 


\ 


I 


f 


M 


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'56 


B/A'D    IV0RL7). 


It  is  in  nesting  time,  of  course,  that  birds  suffer  the 
most  anxiety.  When  any  strange  creature  approaches 
the  nest,  the  mother's  restless  eye  watches  anxiously. 
The  father  is  often  near  at  hand,  and  if  the  nest  or 
young  are  threatened,  an  outcry  is  raised  at  once. 

The  day  the  young  first  fly  and  the  succeeding  ones, 
till  they  are  skilful  and  strong,  are  times  of  watchful- 
ness. Belt  there  are  many  happy  hours  even  in  nest- 
ing time.  Bright,  sunny  days  come,  when  the  male 
sings  for  hours  from  some  tree  near  by,  and  the  female 
broods  on  the  nest,  happy  to  feel  the  warm  eggs  under 

her. 

When  the  young  are  old  enough  to  care  for  them- 
selves, then  the  birds'  holiday  begins,  and  it  often 
lasts  till  the  following  spring.  Nothing  to  do  now 
but  to  get  food  from  the  thick  patches  of  weeds  or 
the  numerous  insects.  An  eye  must  be  kept  out  for 
the  shadow  of  a  hawk's  wing,  and  by  the  game  birds 
for  the  approach  of  a  gunner;  but  many  birds  run 
little  risk  even  from  these  enemies.  Many  of  the 
birds  flock  together  at  this  season;  many  sleep  in 
great  companies,  and  at  night,  when  they  go  to  bed, 
they  make  as  much  noise  and  have  as  jolly  a  time  as 
a  band  of  children. 

A  bird's  memory  is  too  short  to  remember  suffering 
for  long,  and  his  little  brain  does  not  look  forward,  as 
our-s  do,  to  evil  that  may  come.     His  nature  teaches 


•ma^rz.  ..•a!aflraai^'."?^E&!i.*^.'«rir*-3?3«6 


A    PAIR    OF    ORIOLES 


•Sf^w^^SK 


K!SJfSCnEm<iMljb«°^     jFi   .  ff-      l-wr.L    sir.. 


"^'IffilW; 


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D 

rw 

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AS  FREE  AS  A    BIRD. 


157 


him  to  be  wide-awake,  but  he  does  not  borrow  trouble. 
When  it  rains,  he  hides  in  some  thick  shelter ;  when 
it  is  cold,  he  fluffs  out  his  feat^  ^rs ;  when  the  sun 
comes  out,  he  sings  again  from  joy.  A  poet  once 
envied  the  fishes  their  "  sweet,  silver  life  wrapped  in 
round  waves,"  but  a  bird  has  all  the  pleasures  that  a 
fish  can  enjoy,  and  the  sun,  the  warmth,  and  song 
besides. 


Fig.  28.  — Cedar  Bird. 


_ 


?y?«^« 


5rn"-~  7iic:-?; 


^:*'-  mr 


II 


lltl 


TO  THE  GREAT   AND  GENERAL  COURT  OF 
MASSACHUSETTS. 

lFi\  the  Song  birds  of  Massachusetts  and  their  Play- 
fellows, make  this  our  humble  pdition} 

J/f/E  know  more  about  you  than  yon  think  we  do.  We 
^  know  how  good  yon  are.  We  have  hopped  about  the 
roofs  an  '  looked  in  at  the  ivindows  of  the  houses  you  luzve 
built  for  poor  and  sick  and  hungry  people  and  little  lame  and 
deaf  and  blind  children.  We  have  built  our  nests  in  the 
trees  and  sung  many  a  song  as  we  flew  about  the  gardens  and 
parks  you  have  made  so  beautiful  for  your  own  children, 
especially  your  poor  children,  to  play  tn. 

Every  year  we  fly  a  great  way  over  the  country,  keeping  alt 
the  time  where  t''e  sun  is  bright  and  zvarm  ;  and  rve  know 
that  whenever  you  do  anything,  other  people  all  over  the  great 
land  betiveen  n,,  .  '  and  the  great  lakes  find  it  out,  and 
pretty  soon  -l  "  ^  do  the  same  thing.      We  know;  we 

know.  We  a>e  .  .m  ncans  fjist  as  you  are.  Some  of  tis,  like 
some  of  you,  came  from  across  the  great  sea,  but  most  of  the 
birds  like  us  have  lived  here  a  long  while  ;  and  birds  like  us 
welcomed  your  fathers  zvhen  they  came  here  many  years  ago. 
Our  fathers  and  mothers  have  always  done  their  best  lo  please 
your  fathers  and  mothers. 

1  This  petition,  reduced  in  size  from  the  original  manuscript  now 
lying  in  the  Massachusetts  State  House,  was  written  by  Hon.  George  F. 
Hoar  and  illuminated  by  Miss  Ellen  Hale. 


ja.'ur-'mTJinBr ,  u  mn-  »i- 


SONG    BIRDS   OF  MASSACHi'SETTS. 


»59 


i,i;2 


Fig.  29.  — Song  Birds  of  Massachusetts. 


Now  we  /  ave  a  sad  story  to  tell  you.  Thought- 
less or  bad  people  are  trying  to  destroy  us.  They 
kill  us  because  our  feathers  are  beautiful.  Even 
pretty  and  sweet  girls,  who  we  should  think  wou:  I 
be  our  best  friends,  kill  our  brothers  and  children 


'    -     -     -St,.* 


i6o 


fUKD   MORLr. 


,  4  -I 


ill 


I 


so  thai  tluy  may  wear  thiir  plnuiagc  on  tlnir  hats.  Sonw- 
tiiuis  people  kill  us  from  mere  %>.>antonttess.  Cruel  boys 
destroy  our  uests  ami  steal  our  eggs  and  our  young  ones. 
People  with  guns  and  snares  lie  in  wai;  to  kill  us,  as  if  the 
place  for  a  bird  zvere  not  in  the  sky,  alive,  but  in  a  shop 
windo'tv,  or  under  a  glass  case.  If  this  goes  on  much  longer, 
all  your  song  birds  will  be  gone.  Already,  tve  are  told,  in 
some  other  countries  that  used  to  be  full  of  birds,  they  are 
almost  gone.  Even  the  nightingales  are  being  all  killed  in 
Italy. 

Now  we  humbly  pray  that  you  will  stop  all  this,  and  will 
save  us  from  this  sad  fate.  Yon  have  already  made  a  law 
that  no  one  shall  kill  a  harmless  song  bird  or  destroy  our  nests 
or  our  eggs.  Will  yon  please  to  make  another  that  no  one 
shall  wenr  our  feathers,  so  that  no  one  will  kill  us  to  gii 
them  f  We  ivant  them  all  ourselves.  Your  pretty  girls  are 
pretty  enough  without  them.  We  are  told  that  it  is  as  easy 
for  you  to  do  it  as  for  Blackbird  to  whistle. 

If  you  xvill,  we  kno7v  how  to  pay  you  a  hundred  times  over. 

We  will  teach  your  children  to  keep  themselves  clean  and  neat. 

We  zvill  shoiv  them  how  to  live  together  in  peace  and  love  and 
to  agree  as  7ve  do  in  our  nests.  We  zvill  build  f>retty  houses 
which  you  ivill  like  to  see.  We  will  play  about  your  gardens 
and  flower  beds,  — ourselves  like  fioivers  on  ivings,  —  zvithout 
any  cost  to  you.  We  xvill  destroy  the  ivicked  insects  and 
worms  that  spoil  your  cherries  and  currants  and  plums  and 
apples  an-i  roses.  We  will  give  you  our  best  songs  and  make 
tre  spring  more  beautiful  and  :hc  summer  sweeter  to  you. 

Every  June  morning  whin  yon  go  out  into  the  field.  Oriole 


SONG    lilKDS   OI'   MASSACJU  SKITS,  l6l 

and  Hlackbird  and  Bobolink  ivill  Jty  after  yon  and  make  the 
day  more  delightfnl  to  yon  ;  and  ivhen  yon  go  home  tired  at 

^andown.  Vesper  Sparrozv  xvill  tell  yon  hozv  grateful  we  are. 
When  we  sit  on  yon r  porch  afte>-  dark,  Fife  Bird  and  Hennit 
Thrnsh  and  IVjnd  Thmsk  will  sing  to  yon  ;  and  even  Whip- 

poor-  7vill  will  cheer  np  a  little.      We  know  where  we  are  safe. 

In  a  little  while  all  the  birds  will  come  to     -v  in  Massachn- 

setts  again,  and  everybody  who  loves  mnsic  -will  like  to  make 

a  summer  home  with  you. 


u 


I  i 


BIRDS'   ENEMIES. 

NONE  of  us  know  what  it  is  to  live  in  the  -  idst 
of  enemies;  to  go  to  bed  at  night  worn  ring 
whether  Indians  are  not  hiding  in  the  darkness  wait- 
ing to  burn  our  house  and  carry  us  off  prisoners. 

Many  children,  two  hundred  years  ago,  when  the 
French  and  Indians  were  at  va^  with  the  settlers,  saw 
their  fathers  load  their  guns  at  night  and  go  to  sleep, 
ready  to  run  with  them  to  the  blockhouse  if  th( 
alarm  were  sounded. 

The  birds,  like  the  early  settlers,  are  never  free 
from  fear.  Their  enemies  are  so  nui^perous,  so  fierce, 
so  quick,  that  they  must  be  constantly  on  the  wptch, 
and,  like  the  early  settlers,  have  to  guard,  not  them- 
selves only,  but  their  young  ones  and  their  eggs. 

Most  of  the  birds'  enemies  are  looking  for  a  meal, 
and  hope  to  pick  the  flesh  off  the  bones  oi  some 
plump  Robin  or  Quail.  A  few  are  af ra  '  of  the  .-.'larp 
bills  of  the  old  birds,  and  so  prowl  about,  hoping  to 
seize  the  helpless  young  when  their  parents  are  away 
for  a  moment,  or  to  break  and  open  the  eggs  and  eat 
the  uncooked  omelet  which  they  find  in  them. 

Some  go  about  boldly  by  day,  either  soaring  high 
overhead  or  sitting  motionless  on  some  lookout  post, 


mm. 


^ 


HJJiJJS'    EiWiiMJFS. 


'^3 


and  the  eyes  of  such  enemies  are  so  sharp  that  most 
birds  prefer  to  keep  near  bushes  or  trees  so  that 
they  may  dive  into  them  at  the  first  sight  of  their  foe. 
Chickadees  fly  from  tree  to  tac,  and  if  they  come  to 
an  open  space  they  slip  over,  one  by  one,  as  hurriedly 
as  nossible.  A  hat  thrown  up  when  they  are  starting 
f  as  them  so  that  they  hurry  back   to  shelter. 

'  V  e  midday  enemies  are  mostly  hawks,  swilc,  stroncr 
robbers,  with  crooked  claws  and  powerful  bills.  So!-e 
of  them  have  very  long  wings,  sc  that  they  can  go 
like  an  arrow  at  their  victim,  and  when  ihey  reach 
him  and  strike  their  talons  into  his  breast,  the  force 
of  their  flight  often  strikes  him  to  the  ground,  where 
the  hawk's  hooked  oill  soon  makes  an  end  of  the 
unfortunate  bird. 

Other  enemies  fly  softly  about  at  dusk.     You  have 
already  read  about  the  owls  and  know  how  the  birds 
hate  the  sight  of  them.     There  is  another  night  wan- 
derer whom  many  of  the  birds  fear  and  despise  as 
much  as  they  do  an  owl.     It  is  an  animal  of  which 
you  are  probably  very  fond,  your  own  gentle  Pussy 
But  if  Pussy  were  four  or  perhaps  ten  times  as  big  as 
you  are,  and  you  saw  her  big  yd!,  ^a   eyes  glarin<r  ..t 
your  little  brothers  and  sisters   ox   frien-s,  reac     to 
spring  at  them  and  eat  them,  you  would  set  up  a'  cry 
of  warning,  too,  just  as  the  wrens  do  when  they  see 
her.     Many  a  poor  mother-Robin  has  seen  her  young 


fc'fl 


■ 

V 

I 

;H 

l^nf 

•M 

r; 

. 

1 

i"        .;. 

&     fl 

1 1 

i 

|;    : 

S 

l 

i^ 

1 

i  r 
1  i 

164 


B/HD   WOULD. 


if 


1 


n 


M  if 

It  ^i 


ones  carried  off  by  cats  when  they  were  too  young  to 
fly  far,  but  too  eager  to  see  the  world  to  stay  any 
longer  in  the  nest. 

Another  little  animal  whom  you  like  very  much  is 
no  friend  of  the  birds.  The  little  Red  Squirrel,  who 
runs  up  the  tree  so  nimbly,  scolding  and  shaking  his 
tail,  and  stopping  to  nibble  a  nut,  eats  something 
besides  nuts  if  he  gets  a  chance.  I  once  saw  two 
Robins  who  were  very  much  excited.  They  scolded 
and  flew  wildly  about,  dashing  now  and  then  to  their 
nest,  which  I  could  s*  ^  on  the  limb  of  a  tree.  Pres- 
ently, as  I  watched  the  nest,  I  saw  a  squirrel  lift  his 
head  up  only  to  duck  it  again,  as  the  angry  birds 
made  a  dash  at  him.  The  rascal  was  evidently 
squatting  in  the  midst  of  the  eggs,  breaking  them 
open  and  feasting  upon  the  contents.  It  must  have 
been  a  sad  sight  for  the  mother  when  he  left  the  nest, 
those  eggshells,  stained  and  broken,  which  she  had 
left  so  glossy  and  blue  a  few  minutes  before. 

Another  egg  thief  is  a  bird  whose  love  for  his  own 
eggs  ought  to  t(  vich  him  better,  if  they  get  as  far  as 
love  for  one  another  in  Bird  World.  In  one  of  Mr. 
Audubon's  famous  pictures  he  has  drawn  a  saucy  Blue 
Jay,  who  has  stuck  his  bill  into  an  egg  and  holds  it 
up  ready  to  fly  off  with  it.  This  trick  he  has  learned 
with  acorns  and  chestnuts. 

The  enemy  that  the  birds  would  fear  most  would 


■  kii 


BIRDS'    ENEMIES. 


165 


be  the  snake.  If  you  have  been  well  brought  up  and 
know  your  Alice  in  Wonderland,  you  remember  how 
frightened  the  pigeon  was  when  Alice  grew  so  tall 
that  her  long  neck  reached  up  through  the  trees. 
"  You  're  a  snake,"  said  the  pigeon,  and  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  her. 

Many  a  poor  bird,  sitting  in  her  nest,  concealed 
from  all  enemies,  has  heard  a  rustling  in  the  leaves 
and  seen  the  flat  head  of  the  snake,  the  cold,  shiny 
eyes,  and  the  forked  tongue.  If  she  has  young  in  the 
nest  she  tries  to  drive  the  snake  off,  and  her  cries 
bring  other  birds;  but  sometimes  the  snake  is  too 
strong  for  them  and  the  young  are  swallowed  before 
the  mother's  eyes.  Not  even  birds  that  build  in  ponds 
are  safe,  for  snakes  can  swim  as  well  as  climb.  How 
is  it,  then,  that  birds  manage  to  protect  themselves 
from  so  many  enemies .?  The  list  is  long  already,  and 
yet  we  have  not  mentioned  the  foxes,  the  crows,  the 
Butcher  Bird,  and  other  marauders  and  thieves. 

To  begin  with,  if  the  bird's  enemies  are  sly,  the 
bird  itself  is  wide-awake.  Watch  a  wren  in  a  stone 
wall,  or  a  Song  Sparrow  in  a  brush  heap,  and  see  how 
he  slips  in  and  out  like  a  mouse.  No  matter  how 
busily  the  bird  is  feeding  or  frolicking,  he  never  for- 
gets that  danger  may  be  near,  and  on  the  first  sign  of 
an  enemy  all  is  silence  and  the  place  is  apparently 
deserted. 


1 66 


BIRD   WORLD. 


I! 


Illhf 


It  is  very  strange  to  walk  where  birds  are  singing 
all  about,  and  to  notice  that  they  have  suddenly 
become  silent  and  motionless.  If  you  look  up,  there 
is  probably  a  hawk  flying  overhead.  The  birds  have 
seen  him  before  you  have,  and  dare  not  move  a 
feather  that  will  attract  attention.  Most  of  their  long 
journeys  are  performed  at  night.  Many  of  them 
make  even  their  shorter  journeys  from  place  to  place 
about  their  homes  by  slipping  from  bush  to  bush  or 
along  stone  walls  and  thickets. 

Only  birds  that  are  strong  and  swift  of  wing  feel 
free  to  fly  straight  through  the  air.  Some  birds  are 
so  skilful  in  the  air  that  they  take  no  pains  to  conceal 
themselves ;  if  the  hawk  is  swift,  they  are  swifter.  It 
would  be  waste  of  time  for  most  hawks  to  chase  a 
swallow;  the  swallows  know  it  and  fly  boldly  about 
in  the  open  sky. 

To  protect  the  young  and  the  eggs  is  a  harder 
matter.  If  an  enemy  finds  these,  there  is  no  escape. 
The  bird,  therefore,  tries  to  hide  the  nest  or  to  place 
it  out  of  reach.  It  is  only  when  winter  comes  and 
the  trees  and  branches  are  bare  that  we  see  all  about 
us  th<.  lests  which,  though  full  last  spring  of  eggs  and 
young,  were  never  noticed. 

By  putting  the  nest  behind  protecting  leaves, 
under  a  tuft  of  grass  or  a  loose  piece  of  bark,  by  build- 
ing it  of  material  colored  like  the  ground  or  twigs  on 


?i'..-Wi^'':^n.--fcttr--»->«.'-rSB!'»S!"^-JS, 


BIRDS'  en£;mies. 


167 


which  it  rests,  the  bird  hopes  to  conceal  it  from  all 
strange  eyes.  When  she  sits,  her  own  sober  colors 
and  quiet  position  prevent  her  from  being  noticed. 

The  Oriole  hangs  her  pendent  nest  at  the  ends  of 
long  twigs,  for  the  squirrels  do  not  care  to  trust  their 
weight  at  the  tips  of  long  branches,  and  the  nest  is 
too  deep  for  other  creatures  to  get  into.  The  wood- 
pecker's holes  are  too  narrow  to  admit  any  enemies 
besides  snakes,  so  that  neither  woodpeckers  nor  Orioles 
take  great  pains  to  conceal  their  nests. 

Many  birds  that  live  on  the  ground  have  still 
another  way  of  keeping  enemies  from  discovering 
their  nests,  —  a  way  which  it  takes  courage  to  carry 
out,  and  which  wins  our  respect.  The  mother  bird 
often  attracts  attention  to  herself,  and  so  leads  us  away 
from  the  nest,  by  pretending  lamenvs;  and  fluttering 
slowly  off  in  the  opposite  direction. 

Many  birds,  too,  though  very  cowardly  when  they 
themselves  are  attacked,  show  surprising  courage  in 
defending  their  nests  and  young.  The  hen,  for 
example,  is  by  no  means  brave,  but  she  covers  her 
chickens  with  her  wings  at  sight  of  a  hawk  and  looks 
him  boldly  in  the  face. 

When  we  see  the  birds  thus  kept  in  constant  fear 
by  such  a  variety  of  enemies,  liable  to  attack  in  any 
place,  by  day  or  night,  does  it  not  seem  hard  that 
those  to  whom  they  can  give  the  greatest  pleasure, 


iir II  III  III  'iiiii  rvKi^ar* 


riaiK»'wi-,ac7-3''Sf^'3: 


p 

1    i  .  ' 

•'1 1 '- 

'  ii 


M 

I 

t     J: 


1 68 


B/Ji£>-  WORLD. 


who  ought  to  be  their  chief  protectors  and  friends, 
are  often  their  worst  enemies  ? 

Men  can  do  them  more  harm  than  all  their  other 
enemies  combined.  They  hunt  the  old  birds  for  food, 
and  sometimes  for  mere  amusement;  and  thought- 
less boys  take  their  eggs  to  gratify  a  passing  whim. 
Women  wear  the  feathers  and  even  the  bodies  of  birds 
on  their  hats.  If  every  one  could  come  into  Bird 
World  as  we  have  done,  and  could  learn  to  know  and 
love  the  birds,  I  think  the  Feathered  Folk  would  have 
one  less  enemy,  and  by  and  by  be  much  more  happy 
and  confiding:. 


Fig.  30.— The  Bluebird. 


f 


FAMILIES   IN  BIRD  WORLD. 

yHERE  are  often  families  of  people,  the  children 
of  which  resemble  one  or  both  parents  so  closely 
!l  u^."""^  knowing  the  parents  is  able  to  recognize 
the  chi  dren.  This  resemblance  of  parent  and  child 
IS  due  to  the  law  of  inheritance.  Children  will  be  like 
their  parents  all  through  nature. 

There  is,  however,  another  law  not  so  easy  to  under- 
stand as  the  law  of  inheritance,  according  to  which 
-wo  children  of  the  same  parents  will  differ  from  each 
other  in  a  thousand  little  ways.     We  can  see  this  very 
easily  among  our  friends;  brothers  and   sisters   are 
alike  and  yet  different.     Only  in  very  rare  cases  is  it 
hard  to  tell  them  apart.     This  law   also  holds  true 
throughout  nature,  and   though  it  is  often  hard  for 
our  eyes  to  see  differences  among  animals,  it  i.  easy 
to  see  ma  litter  of  pups  or  a  family  of  kittens  how 
different  m  size,  marking,  and  disposition  the  differ- 
ent individuals  are. 

Ther  two  laws  have  been  at  work  in  the  world  for 
ages,  a^  between  them,  and  with  the  help  of  one  or 
two  other  laws,  the  earth  has  been  peopled  with  a 
wonderful  multitude  of  plants  and  animals  of  all  kinds. 

Students  of  iiatural  history,  by  looking  for  resem- 


I 


170 


BIRD    WORLD. 


blances  and  differences,  try  to  trace  back  the  descent 
o*^  all  these  creatures  and  plants,  and  to  discover  how 
many  are  descended  from  the  sa  le  ancestor. 

When  books  on  natural  history  speak  of  this  or 
that  family  of  birds,  the  words  do  not  mean  parents 
and  thcr  four  or  five  children ;  they  mean  all  the 
birds  which  resemble  each  other  so  closely  that  they 
probably  have  descended  from  the  same  bird.  It  is 
like  a  clan  in  Scotland,  where  in  thousands  of  houses 
you  find  people  who  belong  to  one  great  family ;  they 
are  all  related,  and  many  can  trace  their  relationship 
to  the  head  or  chief  of  their  clan. 

In  some  cases  it  is  easy  in  Bird  World  to  see  the 
relationship  in  a  great  family ;  in  others  it  is  not  evi- 
dent at  the  first  glance.  The  Ducks,  for  instance, 
form  a  great  family  which  any  one  could  separate ; 
their  webbed  feet,  their  bills,  their  peculiar  shape,  all 
serve  to  mark  them  as  distinct  from  other  families 
and  related  to  each  other. 

Parrots  form  another  large  and  easily  defined  family. 
Owls  resemble  each  other  all  over  the  world.  In  the 
F'lycatcher  family  and  the  Sparrow  family  the  resem- 
blance is  not  so  easily  seen,  but  close  examination 
shows  that  the  birds  have  the  same  style  of  wing, 
that  the  wings  and  tail  have  the  same  relative  length 
or  the  same  general  shape.  Colors  vary  more  than 
the  shape  of  the  bills,  wings,  and  feet,  so  that  in  the 


FAMILIES  IN  BIRD   WORLD.  171 

same  family  there  may  be  very  plain  or  very  bright 
birds.  It  is  only  by  examining  the  bill  that  we  dis- 
cover that  the  bright-colored  Rose-breasted  Grosbeak, 
for  instance,  is  really  a  sparrow. 

Families  are  often  related  to  other  families;  the 
Ducks  are  related  to  the  Swans  and  to  the  Geese 
Herons  and  Storks  are  related.  One  of  the  strangest 
relationships  is  that  between  the  Chimney  Swift  and 
the  Humming  Bird,  birds  so  different  in  appearance 
and  in  habits.  For  a  long  time  the  Swift  was  thought 
to  be  a  member  of  the  Swallow  Umily,  but  though 
his  habits  are  similar,  he  is  not  at  all  a  near  relation. 

Birds  seem  to  know* very  little  of  their  family  rela- 
tionships. If  different  species  have  the  same  habits 
they  flock  together.  It  is  true  the  different  species 
of  the  swallow  family  often  gather  in  great  flocks,  but 
other  flocks  are  often  seen,  made  up  of  warblers 
vireos.  Kinglets,  and  Chickadees,  birds  belonging  to 
four  different  fa.nilies. 

The  Duck  family  and  the  Hen  family  (to  which  the 
Grouse,  Turkey,  and  Guinea  Fowl  belong)  have,  in  one 
way,  been  the  most  useful  family  to  man,  for  they 
have  supplied  so  many  domestic  birds.  The  hawks 
and  owls  have  probably  been  the  most  fiercely  attacked 
by  man.  The  family  of  perching  birds,  which  include 
nearly  all  our  singing  birds,  —  sparrows,  thrushes 
warbl-s,  swallows,  etc., -are  best  beloved  by  man' 


I 


\  i> 


ffi 


M 


FEATHERS  AND  FLIGHT. 

IF  you  were  swimming,  would  you  spread  your  fingers 
apart  or  close  them  ?  When  you  have  answered 
this  question  and  thought  a  little  about  your  reasons, 
you  will  understand  more  easily  what  I  am  going  to 
tell  vou  about  a  bird's  feather.  The  air  through  which 
the  bird  makes  its  way  must 
be  swept  aside,  just  as  the 
water  is  swept  by  your  closed 
fingers  or  by  the  blade  of  an  ^. 
oar.  If  the  air  could  blow 
through  between  the  wing 
feathers,  the  bird  could  not 
get  ahead. 

Look  now  at  the  strong  feather  in  Fig.  32,  or, 
better  still,  examine  a  feather  itself.  You  see  a  shaft 
running  the  length  of  the  feather,  and  from  it  runs  a 
long  row  of  barbs,  as  they  are  called  —  short,  stout 
ones  from  the  outer  side  of  the  shaft,  longer,  more 
slender  ones  from  the  inner  side.  Try  to  separate 
two  of  these  barbs  by  stretching  out  the  whole  row. 
Do  you  see  how  they  hold  together .''  When  you  have 
finally  pulled  two  of  them  apart,  pass  the  forward  one 
—  the  one  nearer  the  tip  of  the  feather  —  under  the 


Fk;.  31.  —  Contour  Feather. 


sfjCsit-i&'«^:*s*'i  ^H!!*i^HKs;g§e^!»3a5^»iEj;.  »^@nsBiffi""v'i4KPiM:5a:siiii«ii^--'5 


FEATHERS  AND  FLIGHT.  ly^ 

rear  one,  and  you  will  see  that  they  unite  again.  With 
a  n^icroscope  you  can  find  the  hooks  by  which  one 
barb  holds  fast  to  the  one  in  fro.  i  of  it.     Now  we 


Fio.  32.  _  Wing  Feather 

The  strong  feathers,  which  the  bird  uses  like  oars 
a,e  -the  wings  and  tail.    The  shorter  feathers  wWh 

wav  butt'tt' '""'• '"'  ''^^*  '°™  -^''^  ■■"  "'•^  ^-e 
dry.    When  a  bird  has  had  his  feathers  ruffled  or  wet 

b,  it  thatT'  r"'  '"1  ""^='"S«^  "^^^  *'«h  his' 
b.I^  so  that  they  he  smoothly  in  their  proper  places 

Some  birds  have  feathers  which  have  grown  in  such 
peculiar  forms  that   they  are  used  in  special  w^yt 

Fig.  33.-  Strong  Feather  of  Chimney  Swift,     ^^^^n  CreCpCr  haVC  Stiff 

„,.,,,.  ,  or  spiny  tail  feathers 

which  half  support  the  bird  in  climbing.     Many  sepa 
rate  feathers  of  tropical  birds  grow  into  beautiful  or 
wonderful  forms.     The  Birds  of  Paradise  have  many 
such  ornamental  feathers. 


'•'I 


174 


BIRD    WORLD. 


S   ; 


iiS 


Did  you  know  that  hair  and  nails  were  really  pieces 
of  a  very  peculiar  skin,  nothing  more  ?  They  grow 
from  the  skin,  and  though  they  seem  so  different,  they 


Fig.  34. —  Wing  of  Bam  Swallow. 

are  really  made  of  the  same  material.  So  with  birds' 
feathers.  They  look  first  like  little  pimples  in  the 
bird's  skin ;  out  of  this  the  feather  pushes  and  grows 
till  it  reaches  its  proper  size.  When  the  feathers  are 
worn  by  winds  and  by  the  twigs  of  trees,  the  new 


Fl(i.  35. —  Wing  of  (.iiouse. 


feather   pushes    up   through    the    skin,  and    the  old 
feather  falls  out. 

The  little  barbs  at  the  tips  of  the  smaller  feathers 
give  the  color  to  the  bird,  the  lower  parts  of  the 


FRATHERS  AND   FIJGllT. 


75 


i 


Fig.  36.  —  Sparrow's  Wing. 


feather  being  overlaid  and  concealed  by  the  ot  ler 
feathers.  The  breast  feathers  of  a  Robin,  for  instance, 
are  dull  gray  ex(  ept  at  the  tips,  which  are  bright  bay.' 

Some  birds  wear  orf 
the  tips  of  these 
feathers  by  l)riishing 
them    so  -tantly, 

just  as  a  n  p^ets 

worn  dow  1  if   he 

rest  of  H  thf    is 

of  a  dift  color, 

the  bird  may  change  his  appearance  gn  wi^hcu: 

changing  a  feather. 

You  have  read,  or  will  read, 
about  several  birds  that  cannot 
fly.    The  Dodo  could  not,  and 
the    Apteryx   cannot    to-day. 
But  you  will  never  hear  of  a 
bird   without  feathers.     Nor 
will   you    hear    of    feathered 
creatures  that  are  not  birds. 
Fur  and  scales  and  hair  clothe 
the   other   creatures    of    the 
world.     The  mark  of  the  bird 
is  to  be  clothed  in  feathers. 

To    fly  — to   go   from    one    place    in    the    air    to 
another  further  on  — a  bird  must  take  strokes  with 


Fig.  yi.  —  Tail  of  Flicker. 


■F 


■■■•^■^ 


i   1 

if  ; 


"J 

? 


176 


H/AD    WORLD. 


his  wings.  On  the  end  of  the  wing  are  the  long 
primary  feathers,  like  the  fingers  of  our  hand.  These 
and  the  secondaries  close  to  them  form  a  strong  web 
which  the  L  rd  can  hold  out  at  full  length  or  bend 
at  the  elbow.  The  whole  wing  is  joined  to  the  body 
at  the  shoulder  in  such  a  way  that  the  wing  moves 
forward  and  down,  not  straight  up  and  down.     It  is 


Fig.  38.  —  Tail  of  Snowbird. 


Fig.  39.  —  Tail  of  Snowbird. 


this  forward  motion  which  pushes  the  bird  along,  and 
the  downward  stroke  which  keeps  him  from  falling. 
Some  birds  —  Kingbirds,  for  example  —  take  rapid 
strokes,  so  that  they  fly  in  a  straight  line  without 
falling  between  the  strokes.  Woodpeckers,  on  the 
other  hand,  fall  some  distance  between  each  stroke, 
so  that  their  flight  is  a  succession  of  curves. 

The  length  of  a  bird's  wing  is  important  to  notice. 
A  long,  narrow  wing  gives  a  more  power'  \  sweep 


'Si,    t  i  -I    • 


FKATHKKS  AND   FI.IGHT. 


ny 


and  makes  a  swift  flyer.  Notice  the  ease  with  which 
a  swallow  cuts  through  the  air,  and  then  compare 
the  sb  .^e  of  his  wing  with  that  of  the  sparrow's.  A 
long,  broad  wing  is  very  useful  for  birds  like  the  eagles 
and  vultures,  who  spend  much  time  soaring  at  great 


Fig.  4r._  Tail  of  Barn  Swallow. 


Fig.  41.— Tail  of  Dove. 


heights.     The  outspread  wings  and  tail  keep  them  up 
for  hours  with  little  effort  on  their  part. 

rt  is  much  harder  for  a  bird  to  start  to  fly  than  to 
.go  on,  unless  in  a  strong  wind.  Why  this  is  so,  it 
would  be  hard  for  you  to  understand.  Some  birds, 
like  the  Albatross,  can  remain  on  the  wing  for  days, 
but  if  caught  and  placed  on  the  deck  of  a  steamer' 
they  cannot  rise  and  fly  off.  On  the  ocean  they  run 
a  long  distance  :.  .pping  the  water  and  getting  under 
way,  as  it  is  Ccuetl  br,  ..■  ^hey  can  rise  into  the  air. 


.15''%  r. '  ';%:»s^  t  v^pesar 


Ejri^ia-»;>"-V''a--iM.''-*lii5.i4  r^,'-:-~ii&.iV~-*: 


;;  ! 


I=: 


t  i  ■ 


178 


BIRD    WORLD. 


When  you  read  about  feathers,  you  learned  that  all 
birds  had  feathers,  but  that  there  were  some  who  could 
not  fly,  I  think  you  have  now  learned  enough  about 
flight  to  see  why  this  is  so.  The  heavy  birds  with 
short  wings  —  the  Auk  and  the  Ostrich — cannot 
support  such  weight  in  the  air,  so  must  get  along 
with  swimming  and  running  and  diving.  The  long- 
winged  swallow  and  the  broad-winged  hawk  are  as 
much  at  home  in  the  air  as  the  fish  is  in  the  water. 


FLIGHT. 

Have  you  ever  wondered  why  it  is  that  a  bird 
flies  so  surely  and  straight  where  he  wants  to  go, 
while  a  butterfly  flits  about  in  such  a  haphazard  way } 

Those  of  you  who  have  had  to  do  with  boats  will 
know  what  ballast  is,  and  how  necessary  it  is  to  a 
boats  even,  steady  progress.  The  weight  of  the  boat 
should  be  well  down  in  the  water.  The  bird  is  like 
a  well-ballasted  boat.  The  heavy  muscles  and  the 
stomach,  with  its  weight  of  food,  are  all  in  the  "hold," 
so  to  speak,  —  all  down  as  low  as  possible,  —  and  the 
expanse  ot  the  wing  is  not  great  enough  to  out- 
balance this.  In  the  case  of  the  butterfly  the  wing 
expanse  is  so  great  and  the  weight  of  the  body  so  little 
that  the  insect  flutters  about,  driven  out  of  its  course 
by  every  breath  of  air. 


FEATHERS  AND  FLIGHT. 


n9 


A  boat  is  so  built  that  it  floats  even  when  no  work 
IS  done  with  the  oars,  but  if  a  bird  stops  flying,  it  will 
fall  to  the  ground.  The  bird's  flight  is,  therefore, 
more  like  swimming,  in  which  a  person  tries  not  only 
to  keep  up,  but  to  get  ahead  as  well. 

Often,  however,  a  bird  ceases  to  take  wing  strokes 

but  instead  of  falling  to  the  earth,  he  glides  on  through 

the  air.     This  is  because  he  keeps  both  wings  and  tail 

spread,  and  the  air,  as  you  well  know,  will  not  let  a 

broad  surface  fall  as  quickly  as  a  narrow  one.     If  a 

bird  wants  to  fall  quickly, -if  a  hawk,  for  instance 

sees  a  mouse  below  him,  or  a  lark  wants  to  shoot 

down  to  his  mate,  — he  shuts  his  tail  and  brings  his 

vvings  close  to  his  body.     Suppose  the  mouse  had 

vanished  before  the  hawk  reached  the  ground,  the 

hawk,  by  opening  tail  and  wings  again,  will  stop  his 

downward  falling  and  turn   it  into  an  upward  and 

onward  course.     The  broad  wings  and  tail  help,  then 

to  support  the  bird  in  the  air,  and  the  tail  acts  as  a 

brake  to  cheek  his  motion. 


THE   SNOWY   EGRET. 


H  H 


THIS  beautiful  bird  takes  advantage  of  our  being 
in  .Bird  World  to  interest  us  in  the  saving  of  his 
family  from  utter  destruction. 

The  food  of  the  Heron  family  is  in  watery  places, 
and  they  get  it  for  the  most  part  by  wading.  The 
long  legs  and  neck  show  how  nature  has  provided 
the  birds  for  their  place.  For  their  beauty  she  gave 
them  an  almost  fatal  gift.  If  you  were  to  count  in  an 
audience  of  ladies  the  soft,  light,  graceful  feathers, 
called  aigrettes,  worn  in  black,  white,  yellow,  blue, — 
all  colors,  —  you  can  guess  in  advance  the  pitiful  story 
the  bird  of  our  lesson  has  to  tell,  for  he  is  the  Snowy 
Egret. 

The  case  is  one  of  the  most  pitiful  in  Bird 
World.  To  meet  the  demand  of  fashion,  the  plume- 
lets have  to  be  cut  from  the  bird  when  they  first 
come  to  perfection.  All  that  has  been  said  of  birds' 
weddinfj  suits  shows  that  this  is  the  time  when  the 
wearer  of  the  plumes  is  most  necessary  to  his  family. 
So  absorbed  is  he  in  what  goes  to  make  up  family 
life  that  he  forgets  to  exercise  the  wary  habits  which 
the  Nature-fairy  sets  over  against  her  dangerous  gift 
of  beautiful  adornment. 


THE   SNOWY  EGRET. 


i8i 


At  nesting  time  these  birds  are  so  in  love  with 
each  other  and  with  their  babies  that  they  are  stupid 
in  watching  against  danger ;  and  this  is  a  time  when 
some  man,  who  has  become  an  expert  gunner,  takes 


Fig.  42.  —  Snowy  Egret. 

an  order  for  supplying  a  hundred  or  a  thousand 
aigrettes  to  a  millinery  rouse.  He  knows  where  in 
Florida,  Mississippi,  or  Texas  marshes  he  may  expect 
to  find  a  great  colony  of  the  birds  he  wants.  So 
noisy  are  they  he  has  no  difficulty  in  locating  them. 
You  can  imagine  the  rest  of  the  story.     It  is  as  if 


ifi 


if 


tl 


'i 


l82 


BIRD    WORLD. 


it 


the  mothers  and  fathers  of  a  village  were  to  be  taken 
away  and  no  provision  made  for  four  or  five  little 
children  in  every  home. 

The  parents  have  a  quick  death,  falling  under  the 
marksman's  shot,  but  it  takes  some  time  for  the  brave 
little  ones  waiting  for  food  to  cease  crying  and  pain- 
fully wait  their  release. 

Remember,  this  had  to  happen  that  the  graceful 
aigrettes  might  make  a  pretty  hat  a  little  prettier  than 
something  else  might  have  made  it,  and  you  will  wish 
to  bt:  ome  the  bird's  champion  to  save  its  race  from 
so  needless  a  destruction. 


He  prayeth  well,  who  loveth  well 
Both  man  and  bird  and  beast. 

He  prayeth  best,  who  loveth  best 
All  things  both  great  and  small ; 

For  the  dear  God  who  loveth  us, 
He  made  and  loveth  all. 


COLERIIMiE. 


THE   WOOD   THRUSH. 

P  ARLY  in  this  book  you  saw  what  would  probably 
^  be  called  the  handsomest  song  bird  in  Bird 
World,  the  Scarlet  Tanager ;  but  most  people  would 
rather  live  near  a  Wood  Thrush  than  a  Tanager,  in 
spite  of  his  plain  brown  and  white  suit.  For  this 
Thrush  is  the  finest  of  all  our  many  songsters;  his 
notes  are  as  rich  and  sweet  as  an  organ's  or  those  of 
a  stringed  instrument.  Early  in  May  he  reaches 
New  England,  but  when  the  hot  days  of  August 
come,  he  stops  singing,  and  before  October  he  leaves 
for  the  south,  where,  silent  and  shy,  he  hides  in  the 
woods  till  April  comes  again. 

Mr. Samuels  says:  "  The  thrushes  are  the  birds  that 
rid  the  soil  of  noxious  insects  that  are  not  preyed 
upon  by  other  birds." 

Warblers  capture  insects  in  the  foliage  of  trees; 
flycatchers,  those  that  are  flying  about;  swallows,' 
those  which  have  escaped  all  these;  woodpeckers, 
those  in  the  larval  state  in  the  wood;  wrens,  nut- 
hatches, titmice,  and  creepers  eat  the  eggs  on  anu 
under  the  bark,  but  the  thrushes  subsist  on  those 
which  destroy  the  vegetation  on  the  surface  of  the 
earth. 


I 


.U 


■w- 


I 


I 


THE   BROWN  THRUSH. 


T 


HIS  is  the  "merry  brown  thrush"  of  the  poem, 
whose  message  to  children  was  that  the  world 


Bxa.  43.  —  Brown  Thrasher. 

would  n't  continue  to  "run  over  with  joy"  unless  they 
were  as  good  as  could  be. 

Its  more  common  name,  Brown  Thrasher,  comes 
from  its  wren-like  habit  of  thrashing  its  tail. 

While  it  looks  like  the  Thrushes,  it  acts  like  the 
wrens,  and  it  is  contended  that  it  is  not  really  a  Thrush 
at  all. 

Very  good  and  pleasant  things  are  said  of  its 
dashing,  exultant  song.  It  is  more  distinct  than 
most  bird  songs,  and  there  are  many  different  ways 


THE   BROWN  THRUSH. 


185 


of  rendering  it  into  our  kind  of  language.  Thoreau 
tells  us  that  the  farmers  who  hear  it  first  in  planting 
time  agree  in  making  it  say,  "  Drop  it,  drop  it,  cover 
it  up,  cover  it  up,  pull  it  up,  pull  it  up."  The  ringing 
notes  can  be  heard  quite  a  third  of  a  mile  away. 

This  picture  only  shows  its  general  appearance.  If 
you  compare  it  with  the  Robin,  you  will  see  that  the 
wings  are  shorter,  and  the  tail  longer  in  proportion. 

In  color  it  has  rust  red,,  but  it  is  on  the  back, 
rather  than  the  breast,  which  latter  is  white,  with 
black  spots  shaped  like  arrowheads,  all  pointed  for- 
ward. The  two  white  oands  across  the  wings  also 
help  to  distinguish  .t. 

It  builds  its  nest  either  on  the  ground  or  in  some 
high  bush,  and  its  eggs  are  speckled  with  reddish 
brown ;  but  when  it  intends  to  sing,  it  is  apt  to  fly  to 
the  topmost  twig  of  a  high  tree,  like  another  bird  we 
have  met  in  our  Bird- World  journey. 


! 


i 


HAWKS. 


I   WAS  once  watching  a  flock  of  sparrows  feeding 
and  singing,  flying  after  each  other  or  up  to  the 
fence  posts,  when  suddenly  the  singing  stopped,  and 

not  a  bird  stirred  a 
feather.  I  1  oked  up, 
and  in  the  ^<y  I  saw 
a  small  hawk  soaring 
and  flapping;  till  he 
was  out  of  sight,  you 
would  have  believed 
the  field  was  empty; 
then  the  singing  and 
fluttering  began  again. 
Often  the  little  hawk 
comes  up  so  silently 
that  he  sees  the  birds 
before  they  have  a 
chance  to  "  play  'pos- 
sum." Then  a  chase 
begins,  the  little  birds  trying  to  reach  bushes  where 
they  can  slip  into  a  tangle,  the  hawk  trying  to  strike 
or  seize  them  with  his  curved  toes,  —  talons  they  are 
called. 


Pu;.  44.  —  Cooper's  Hawk. 


HAWKS.  187 

Stories  are  told  of  small  birds  taking  refuge  with 
men,  and  of  hawks  so  bold  that  they  have  pursued 
their  prey  into  a  barn  or  even  an  open  window. 


^^W^?^^'^ 

\|^>^-^ 


Fig.  45.  —  Head  of  Hawk. 

The  fate  which  awaits  a  bird  whom  the  hawk 
overtakes  is  terrible  enough  to  explain  the  silent 
fright  which  a  hawk's  appearance  produces.      In  a 


Fig.  46.  —  Foot  of  Hawk. 

crowded  city  street  I  saw  a  hawk  catch  a  sparrow 
and  carry  him  screaming  with  pain  and  terror  to  the 
limb  of  an  elm.  The  poor  little  fe^'ow  was  dead,  the 
sharp  claws  having  pierced  his  breast.      The  hawk 


i 


I 


I.S8 


'iJA'/)    WORLD. 


now  bent  over,  holding  ..ic  sparrow  to  the  limb,  and 
tore  the  feathers  out,  plucking  them  as  we  pluck  a 
chicken.  Then  he  took  mouthfuls  of  the  flesh  with 
his  sharp,  curved  bill. 

An  o\Vl  would  have  swallowed  the  sparrow,  feath- 
ers, bones,  and  all,  and  afterwards  thrown  out  a  ball 
of  feathers  and  bones.  So  that  when  you  find  the 
feathers  of  a  bird  in  the  woods,  you  can  lay  the  blame 
on  the  Hawk,  Cat,  or  Fox,  but  not  on  the  Owl. 

To  seize  a  bird  which  can  also  fly  needs  swiftness 
and  boldness ;  so  that  the  hawks  which  live  on  other 
birds  have  long  wings  and  a  daring  spirit.  Some  of 
the  fiercest  are  very  small,  while  some  of  the  large 
hawks  rarely  catch  birds,  but  live  on  caterpillars, 
moths,  frogs,  and  mice. 

When  a  farmer  misses  his  chickens  one  after 
another  and,  getting  angry,  finally  takes  down  his 
gun,  he  may  shoot  a  friend  instead  of  an  enemy. 
The  bird  shown  in  l^g.  44  and  a  cousin  of  his,  called 
the  Sharp-shinned  Hawk,  are  the  real  offenders ;  anc' 
the  large  hawk,  called  the  Hen  Hawk,  is  innocent. 

You  know  that  when  a  man  is  tried  in  court  for 
some  wrongdoing,  we  are  careful  to  give  him  a 
chance  to  defend  himself,  and  we  never  call  him 
guilty  till  we  have  proof.  The  hawks  cannot  come 
to  us  to  defend  themselves,  so  that  we  ought  to  be 
very  careful  to  get  proof  before  we  condemn  them  to 


Itii 


i  « 


r 


life 


I 


HA  IV AS. 


189 


death.  We  ought  to  be  especially  careful  if,  by  kill- 
ing the  wrong  hawk,  we  should  destroy  a  friend  who 
protects  our  crops  from  mice  and  hurtful  insects. 

Hawks  were  much  used  in  former  times  to  hunt 
with.  They  were  carefully  trained,  as  dogs  are  now, 
and  taught  to  fly  after  any  large  birds  whom  the 
hunters  wanted  to  kill,  and  to  come  back  at  the  sound 
of  a  whistle.  "  To  hunt  with  hawk  and  hound  "  is  a 
phrase  often  found  in  old  writers.  Ladies  often  had 
their  favorite  hawks,  and  carried  them  on  their  wrists. 
That  such  a  savage  bird  could  be  tamed  is  surprising, 
but  falconry  seems  a  cruel  sport  which  I  am  glad 
is  no  longer  fashionable. 


\ 


lil 


u    i- 


BIRD   LANGUAGE. 

BIRDS  have  not  as  much  to  say  Uj  '.  ich  other  as 
men  have.  A  bird's  voice  is  used  rather  more 
as  we  use  a  bell,  to  give  important  warnings  and 
announcements.  The  fire  bell  warns  people  of  dan- 
ger to  property.  The  doorbell  rings  when  some  one 
wishes  to  see  a  friend.  The  dinner-bell  calls  us  to 
our  food. 

The  parts  of  our  speech  that  are  most  like  the 
birds'  ordinary  language  are  what  we  call  exclama- 
tions,—  Look  out!  Hallo!  Stop!  Ho!  As  soon  as 
you  begin  to  make  sentences,  you  are  telling  each 
other  thoughts  which  are  too  difficult  for  birds  to 
understand. 

The  common  sounds  which  birds  make  can  there- 
fore be  divided  into  two  or  three  classes.  They  are 
generally  called  call  notes,  alarm  notes,  and  recog- 
nition notes.  The  cock  gives  a  call  note  when  he 
has  found  something  to  eat ;  when  the  hens  hear  it, 
they  run  to  the  spot.  Alarm  notes  are  given  by  the 
hen  when  she  wishes  her  chickens  to  hide  under  her 
wing,  or  by  any  bird  when  he  is  suddenly  startled. 

Recognition  notes  are  used  very  largely  by  birds 
who  travel  in  companies,  and  are  given  and  answered 


BIRD   J. A NG CAGE. 


191 


constantly,  so  that  the  different  members  of  the 
band  may  keep  together.  The  Bobolink  has  a  call 
note  unlike  that  of  any  other  American  bird,  a  rich 
chink,  which  is  often  heard  from  the  sky  in  the  clear 
autumn  nights.  Who  knows  what  the  Bobolink  is 
doing  up  there  in  the  darkness  instead  of  sleeping  in 
the  long  grass  ? 

The  call  notes  are  often  used  by  the  birds  on  vari- 
ous other  occasions ;  the  bird  has  so  few  words  that 
he  must  make  them  do  for  several  purposes.     If  a 
bird  \^  excited,  even  if  he  is  not  actually  afraid,  he 
often  gives  his  alarm  note,  and  if  he  is  pleased  he 
gives  his  call  note,  without  meaning  to  call  his  friends. 
A  hen  has  a  peculiar  drawling  note  which  she  uses 
when  she  feels  hapoy,  and,  by  changing  it  a  little,  she 
expresses  the  unhappiness  she  feels  in  wet  or  unpleas- 
ant weather.     A  mother  bird  has  often    many  little 
low  and  gentle  notes  which  she  uses  to  her  young  in 
the  nest,  and  often  this  same  baby  talk  is  used  by  the 
parents  to  each  other.     Lastly,  the  young  have  notes 
of  their  own  which  generally  mean,  "Come!  come! 
I  am  so  hungry." 

If  birds  had  no  other  notes  than  these  which  I  have 
mentioned,  many  which  are  now  famous  the  world 
over,  and  beloved  by  nearly  all  people,  would  be 
almost  unknown. 

There  is  a  bird  in   Europe  whose  call  note  is  very 


I- 


*? 


•4-^- 


..^^ 


192 


BIRD    V  ORLD. 


unpleasant  and  his  plumage  very  plain ;  he  is  shy  and 
has  no  amusing  or  pleasing  ways,  and  yet  poets  in  all 
countries  have  sung  about  hi-  and  people  have 
traveled  long  distances  to  hear  him  sing. 

The  song  of  the  Nightingale  or  of  any  of  the  great 
song  birds  is  the  greatest  blessing  which  birds  have 
for  men.  If  there  were  no  singing  birds,  the  woods 
and  fields  in  spring  would  seem  silent  and  dreary. 
The  song  delights  men,  not  only  because  it  is  a  cheer- 
ful or  beautiful  sound,  but  because  the  bird  is  saying 
something  when  he  sings  which  men  say  too,  —  the 
best  thing  that  they  ever  say. 

The  Nightingale,  when  singing,  is  trying  to  express 
the  great  love  he  feels  for  his  mate,  and  for  the  little 
children  which  he  has  or  hopes  to  have.  First  he 
calls  her  to  him  with  a  song.  He  sings  loudly  so  that 
she  can  hear  him  wherever  she  is,  and  can  come  to 
him.  Then,  when  they  have  chosen  the  place  for 
their  nest,  and  she  is  sitting  patiently,  day  after  day, 
on  the  eggs  she  has  laid,  he  sings  to  her  to  encourage 
her  to  sit  still,  so  that  the  eggs  which  are  so  precious 
to  both  of  them  may  hatch,  and  the  little  birds,  more 
precious  even  than  the  eggs,  may  be  born. 

If  the  nest  is  destroyed,  there  is  nothing  left  to  sing 
for,  unless  the  birds  should  have  courage  enough  to 
build  another  nest,  and  then  the  song  begins  again. 


\.,Ma 


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THE   WOOD    THRUSH. 


mm 


WmiA 


•jiSEm 


m 


-*■:>■■       -i 


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Sm^M^. 


SOME   STRANGE   BIRD   MUSIC. 

"THE  music  which  the  Chinese  make,  or  the  noise 
which  they  call  music,  is  not  very  pleasant  to 
our  ears,  and  the  savage  races  make  still  more  hideous 
sounds  to  express  their  joy.     Birds,  too,  differ  very 
much  m  the  character  of  the  sounds  by  which  thev 
^  express  their  feelings.     When  the  Skylark  knovvs  that 
his  mate  is  sitting  in  her  nest  in  the  wheat,  and  brood- 
ing the  eggs  from  which  his  dear  young  are  to  hatch 
he  cannot  keep  on  the  ground,  but  r  .junts  far  into  the 
sky,  singing  and  singing,  sometimes  for  ten  minutes 
at  a  time.     People  listen  and  wonder  at  the  beauty  of 
his  song.  -^ 

There  is  a  large  bird,  long-legged  and  an  awkward 
flyer,  with  a  long,  sharp  bill  with  which  he  spears 
unfortunate  frogs.  He  lives  in  the  marshes,  and  his 
brown  dress  is  striped  so  that  when  he  stands  motion- 
less among  the  tall  grass  or  cat-tails,  you  would  take 
him  for  a  stake,  or  a  bunch  of  the  reeds  themselves. 
He  IS  called  the  Bittern,  or,  by  the  country  people, 
btake-Dnver  or  Thunder- Pumper. 

The  last  name  describes  very  well  the  sound  which 
he  makes  when  his  mate  is  sitting  on  her  damp  nest 
'n  the  cat-tails.     To  cheer  her  and  remind  her  that  he 


V 


li 


194 


BIRD    WORLD. 


ndertaking  for  the 


is  near  and  will  protect  her,  he  makes  sounds  which 
resemble  the  syllables  unk-a-clmnk,  made  way  down  in 
one's  throat,  and  these  sounds  he  urters  so  loud  that 
they  can  be  easily  heard  half  a  mile  away. 

It  seems  to  be  a  considerable 
Bittern   to  say  all    this.     He    first   seems  to  fill  his 
breast  with  air,  and  then  to  force  it  out  with  violent 
convulsions. 

The  notes  sound  as  if  they  came  through  water, 
and  in  the  old  days,  before  people  learned  to  watch 
closely,  it  was  commonly  believed  that  the  Bittern 
put  his  bill  into  a  hollow  reed,  or  that  he  stuck  his 
bill  into  the  mud  and  water. 

The  woodpeckers  express  their  feelings  in  a  very 
characteristic  way.  The  bill  which  w^e  have  seen 
them  use  for  a  chisel  now  becomes  a  drumstick,  and 
beats  on  some  dry  limb  a  tattoo  which  can  be  heard 
far  through  the  forest.  The  Flicker,  who,  you  remem- 
ber, has  become  more  civilized  than  many  of  his 
family,  has  a  fancy  for  a  finer  kind  of  a  drum ;  he 
sometimes  beats  a  tin  roof  or  tin  pan,  often  returning 
to  the  same  spot  day  after  day. 

All  these  strange  sounds  made  by  the  woodpeckers 
and  the  Bittern  express  to  their  mates  the  same  feel- 
ings which  the  Skylark  puts  into  beautiful  song. 


BIRD    BILLS. 

r\N  the  two  following  pages  are  the  heads  of  several 
^^     different  birds.  — birds    not    only  of   different 
kinds,  but  of  different  families  and  of  very  different 
ways  of  life.     Some  of  them  belong  to  families  about 
which  you  have  already  read.     You  can  find  a  back- 
woodsman among  them  with  his  chisel,  and  a  Grouse 
with  his  all-round  bill,  useful  for  crushing  grain,  gather- 
ing fruit,  or  seizing  insects.     The  Flamingo  and  Duck 
both  strain  water  through  their  bills,  but  the  Flamingo 
turns  his  upside  down  so  that  you  could  almost  say 
that  he  stood  on  his  head  to  eat.     Some  of  the  other 
birds  have  bills  of  very  strange  shape.     The  gypsy 
Crossbill  has  a  pair  of  scissors  with  which  he  cuts 
pine  seeds,  and  the   Humming  Bird  has  a  tube  that 
enters  the  deepest  floweis.     Look  through  your  book 
for  birds  of  other  families.  Herons,  Owls,  Hawks,  and 
Gulls;  compare  their  bills  with  these,  and  with  each 
other,  and  try  to  find  out  how  each  bird  is  helped  by 
the  particular  shape  of  his  bill. 


lip 
•i  11 


Kider  Duck. 


Grnuse. 


I'  lainingo. 


fUi.  47. --Bird  Uill> 
ii/) 


Nuthatch. 


Hairy  Woodpecker. 


Humming  Bird. 


Cliiinni'v  ."^wift. 


Red-winged  blackbird. 


Crossbill. 


Cardinal. 


Fra.  48.  — Bird  Bills. 


IHi 


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11)11 


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t 

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x^'UitL  -»■     i 


APPENDIX. 


-- ,1 


you  mil  find  on  following  pages  some  keys,  as  they  are  called, 
which  are  to  help  you  unlock  some  of  the  secrets  of  Hird 
Word,  and  particularly  to  ..elp  you  learn  the  names  c  5  any  strange 
b  ds  which  you  may  meet.  Be  sure  to  remember  that  you  may 
often,  even  wuh  their  help,  make  mistakes,  and  keep  a  sharp  watch 
of  any  b,rd  wh.ch  you  think  you  have  identified,  to  see  whether 
Its  actions,  voice,  or  habits  may  strengthen  or  weaken  your  cor.rt- 
dence  that  you  are  right. 

Your  eyes  need  be  very  sharp  to  work  with  the  keys.  Thev 
will  ask  you  whether  the  bird  had  a  rounded  tail  or  a  square  one' 
whether  the  bill  was  long  or  short  or  stout  or  slender'what  the 
colors  were  and  where  they  were. 

Perhaps  it  will  help  you  to  observe  a  living  bird  accurately,  if 
the\ook'  ^l/^'^-'y-  y-  can  the  bird  pictures  on  the  pageLf 
he  book      Their  colors,  it  is  true,  are  not  given  except  in  a  few 
cases,  but  you  can  see  that  the  tail  feathers  of  some  have  "  thumb- 
marks    of  some  light  color,  that  there  are  bars  across  the  wings 
of  others,  and  that  these  bars  are  formed  sometimes  of  solid  color 
sometimes  by  rows  of  spots.     Examine  the  tails  to  see  whether  thJ 
outer  or  inner  feathers  are  the  longer  ;  you  will  see  that  some  tail 
feathers  are  sharp  and  probably  rtout.     The  bills  will  show  many 
points  of  difference,  and  tell  much  about  the  birds'  feeding  habits. 

resSnTof  V:^^^^:>,lr^!J^'^^^'^^  ^^^  —onest  summer 
one  or  two  other  birds  whose  genera,  ^PpJL:'i;:;J';::^^;;t::;-^ 


^^ 


2O0 


.iJ'rENDJX. 


I)ucn  otiiittetl  in  oilier  to  ^iiiiplifv  tlic  key  as  nnali  a;*  |K)HsiI)lt;.  It  is  not 
fxpi.ctfd  that  younj{  chililttn  will  lif  ahlf  tu  u^sf  the  key  without  assistunie, 
and  it  is  hoped  that  in  any  case  it  will  ser\'  nieiely  as  an  inicntive  to  further 
.itid  closer  ohservatioii  of  the  living  l)iril.J 


BIRDS   GROUPED  BY  A  COLOR   STANDARD. 


litKDS    SlIoWINi.     MUCH     UkOWN. 

A.    I'pper  parts  plain  brown;  under  parts  white,  or  white  with 

streaks  or  spots. 
/)'.    I'pper  parts  streaked  ;   under  parts  li;;hl,  or  lighter  colored. 
( ■.     I'lwn-colort'd. 
1>.    lirownish-olive. 

A.  (i)    Not  streaked  or  spotted  below. 

a.    Longer  than  a  Robin.     Cuckoo. 

/'.    .Small  bird  with  ^hort  tail.      House  Wren. 
A.  (2)    Spotted  (jr  marked  beiow. 

a.  Tail  virv  louii.      Brown  Thrasher. 

b.  Head    browner    than   back   and    tail  ;    entire 

under     parts     heavily     marked.        Wood 
Thrush. 

c.  Head,  back,   and  tail  tawny;  breast  lightly 

spotted.      Wilson's  I'hrush.     Veery. 
/>'.  (i)    Bird  larger  than  a  Robin. 

a.  Tail   feathers   white  :  breast    yellow   with   a 

black    crescent.     Lives    in   grassy  fields. 
Meadow  Lark. 

b.  Rump  white ;   flight  undulating.      Generally 

lights  on  the  side  of  a  large  limb  or  tree 
trunk.     Flicker. 
-.      Rarelv  seen  before  dusk.    Whip-poor-will. 


■4> 


A/'/'EADJX. 


20 1 


lot 

ler 


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)d 

tly 


is. 

lly 
ee 


a. 


b. 


B.  (2)    Small  birds  with  the  sparrow  bill. 
Breast  streaked. 

Flight  nervous,  jerky.  Common  every- 
where. Song  bright  and  cheerful.  Song 
Sparrow. 
Tail  shorter  than  in  a ;  a  line  over  each 
eye  and  through  the  crown.  Lives  in 
grassy  fields.  Song  weak.  Savanna 
Sparrow.  (See  also  Gray  Birds.) 
Breast  not  streaked. 

a.  Tail  long,  notched  ;  breast  ashy  gray. 
Crown  chestnut ;  black  line  through  eye. 
Common  about  dooryards  ;  not  at  all  shy. 
Chipping  Sparrow. 

b.  Throat  whitish ;  breast  grayish  ;  crown 
and  wings  chestnut  in  spring.  Lives  in 
swampy  places  ;  rather  shy.  Swamp 
Sparrow. 

c.  Bill  light-colored  ;  breast  buffy-white.  Lives 
in  bushy  pastures.     Field  Sparrow. 

Bill  stout ;  throat  (in  male)  black ;  wing  bars 
white  ;  sides  of  head  chestnut.  (Female 
brown  above,  dirty  white  below.)  Com- 
mon in  city  and  village  streets.  English 
Sparrow.   • 

C.  Fawn-colored.     Black  line  through  the  eye ;  tail  tipped 

with  yellow.     Often  shows  a  crest.     Cedar  Bird. 

D.  Brownish-olive.     Under  parts  white,  streaked  with  black. 

Walks.      Common  in  woodland.     Ovtnbird. 


d. 


\i 


i  i 


J^ 


"' 


202 


APPENDIX. 


BIRDS   MOSTLY   GRAY. 


A.  Olive-gray.     Rarely,  if  ever,  seen  on  the  ground. 

B.  Brownish-gray.     Back  streaked. 

C.  Slate-gray. 

A.  (i)    Birds  that  sit  on  exposed  perches  ;  tail  held  directly 
beneath  the  bird. 

a.  No  conspicuous  wing-bars.    Bird  jerks  the  tail 

after  alighting.     Note,  phoe-be.     Phoebe. 

b.  Two  white  wing-bars ;  tail  not  jerked.     Note, 

pefee-wee.     Wood  Peewee. 

c.  Resembles  ^,  but    smaller.      Note,  a  sharp 

che-bec,  snapped  out  with   a  jerk   of  the 
head.     Chebec ,  or  Least  Flycatcher, 

A.  (2)    Birds  that  hunt  in  the  branches  of  trees.     Tail  quite 

short. 

a.  White   line   over    eye.     Song   made   up  of 

brolcen  phrases.     Red-eyed  Vireo. 

b.  No  white   line.      Song   a   slow,    continuous 

warble.     Warbling  Vireo.      (Cf.   p.    199 
B  (2),  a) 

B.  A  sparrow,  seen  on  the  ground  or  at  the  edges  of  fields. 

a.  Breast  streaked  ;  tail  shows  two  white  outer 
feathers.  Song  strong  and  sweet.  Ves- 
per sparrow. 

C.  a.    Found  in  bushy  places  about  houses.     Cap 

and  tail  black.     Catbird. 


APPENDIX. 


203 


B. 


BLACK    AND    WHITE    BIRDS. 

Upper  parts  black,  streaked  or  spotted  with  white. 

a.  Larger  than  an  English  Sparrow.  Bill  stout ; 
back  white;  wings  spotted  with  white. 
Male  has  a  red  patch  on  the  back  of 
head.  Found  in  winter  also.  Downy 
Woodpecker. 

b.  Smaller  than  an  English  Sparrow.  Bill 
slender;  entire  bird  striped  with  black 
and  white.     Black  and  White  Creeper. 

Whole  head,  crown,  cheeks,  and  throat  black.     Large 
birds. 

Rose  color  on  the  breast.     Wings  and  back 

showing  white.     Rose-breasted  Grosbeak. 

Sides    of    breast   chestnut.      Tail    showing 

large,  white  spots.     Common  in  clearings. 

Chewink  or  Towhee  Bunting. 

C.    Head  not  wholly  black.     Breast  and  belly  white. 

a.  Larger  than   sparrow.     Entire  under  parts 

white  ;  tail  tipped  with  white.     Kingbird. 

b.  Smaller   than    sparrow.      Throat    and   cap 

black.     Feeds  among  branches,  to  which 
it  clings.     Chickadee. 

^.    Whole  under  parts  black.     Lives  in  grassy  fields.     Bobo- 
link. 


a. 


b. 


»04 


APPENDIX. 


BIRDS    SHOWING    CONSIDERABLE    YELLOW    OR    ORANGE. 

.'/.    Birds  showing  black  and  yellow,  or  black  and  orange. 

B.  Birds  showing  yellow  but  no  black. 

C.  Top  of  head  yellow. 

A.  (i)    Orange  and  blacc.     (Females  without  orange.) 

a.  Larger  than  sparrow.     Bill  long,  back  yellow, 

breast  orange.  Note,  a  loud  whistle.  Oriole. 

b.  Smaller  than  sparrow.     Mostly  black,  show- 

ing patches  of  orange  at  the  shoulders, 
and  yellow  in  the  outspread  tail.    Redstart. 

A.  (2)    Yellow  and  black.     Birds  all  smaller  than  sparrow. 

a.  Mostly  light  yellow.     Forehead,  wings,  and 

tail  black.     Goldfinch.     (Female  wi«^'^out 
black.) 

b.  Throat  yellow.     Black  band  through  the  eye. 

Hides    in    bushes    near    water.     (Female 
without  black.)      Maryland  Yellow-throat. 

c.  Throat  black ;  sides  of  head  yellow.     Lives 

in  evergreens.    Black-throated  Green  War- 
bler. 

B.  {i)    Entire  bird  yellow  ;    wings   and  ta'^    duller.      Song, 

bright,  lively.     Summer  Yellowbird. 

B.  (2)     :  '  roat  yellow. 

a.  Common  in  street  trees.     Song  made  up  of 

loud,  rich  phrases.    Yellow-throated  Vireo. 

b.  Common  in  pines.     Song,  a  slow  trill.     Pine 

Warbler. 
C  ( I )    Under  parts  white ;  a  narrow  strip  of  chestnut  along 
the  sides. 
Chestnut-sided  Warbler. 


Found  in  clearings  and  roadside  bushes. 


API'ENDJX. 


205 


HALF    THE    BIRD    OR    MORE    SOME    SHADE    OF    RED, 

(For  birds  showing   patches  of   red  or  orange,  see  Black,  and 
Black  and  Orange.) 

A.  Head  rose  red.     Back  and  tail  brownish.     Purple  Finch. 

B,  Entire  bird   scarlet,  except   black  wings   and  tail.      Scarlet 

Tanager. 
C    Breast  bay ;  head  black ;  wings  and  tail  brown.     liobin. 


//. 


BIRDS   CHIEFLY    BLACK. 

Seen  chiefly  on  the  ground. 

a.  Larger  than  a  pigeon.     Note  caw.     Crow. 

b.  Larger  than  a  robin.     Bill  and  tail  long. 

Head  and  back  glossy,  with  purple  or 
bronze  reflections.  Crow  Blackbird  or 
Purple  Crackle. 

c.  A  little  smaller  than  a  robin.     Male  has 

scarlet  epaulets.  Bill  long,  sharp.  (Fe- 
male blackish-brown,  streaked.)  Red- 
winged  Blackbird. 

d.  Smaller  than  c.     Head  rich  brown.     Walks 

on  the  ground,  often  near  cattle.    (Female 
dull  brown.)     Cowbird. 
Seen  always  in  the  air. 

a.   Wings  long, curved;  tail  short,  cigar--haped. 
Chimney  Swift. 


206 


APPENDIX. 


BLUE   OR   BLUE-GRAY  BIRDS. 

A.  Larger  than  a  Robin. 

a.  Wings  and  tail  marked  with  black  and  white  ; 

coliu-  black.     Seen  in  trees.     Blue  Jay. 

b.  No  black ;   collar  white.      Seen   flying  over 

water  or  near  it.     Kingfisher. 

B.  Smaller  than  a  Robin. 

a.  Entirely  blue,  except  brown  wings  and  tail. 

Bird  the  size  of  a  sparrow;  seen  on  the 
tops  of  trees  or  in  thickets.  (Female 
brown.)     Indigo  Bird. 

b.  Breast   chestnut.      Larger  than  a  sparrow. 

Seen  in  orchards  or  near  country  houses. 
Bluebird. 

c.  Blue-gray ;   under   parts   white ;    tail   short. 

Seen  on  the  trunks  or  large  limbs  of 
trees,  often  with  head  downward.  Nut- 
hatch. 


■J\ 


APPENDIX. 


207 


COMMON  SUMMER 

FOUND    NEAR    HOUSES,    IN 

Robin, 

Cuckoo. 

Chebec. 

Kingbird. 

Catbird. 

Goldfinch. 

Cedar  Bird. 

Wood  Thrush.* 

Screech  Owl. 

Red-eyed  Vireo.* 

Yellow-throated  Vireo. 

House  Sparrow. 

Song  Sparrow. 

Barn  Swallow. 

Redstart. 

Crow  Blackbird. 

Chimney  Swift. 

IN    GROVES. 

Sparrow  Hawk. 


BIRDS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 
ORCHARDS,    OR   ALONG    STREETS. 

Oriole. 

Phcebe. 

Flicker. 

Cowbird. 

Bluebird. 

Purple  Finch. 

Chickadee.* 

House  Wren. 

Humming  Bird. 

Warbling  Vireo. 

Yellow  Warbler. 

Chipping  Sparrow. 

Cliff  Swallow. 

White-bellied  Swallow. 

Rose-breasted  Grosbeak. 

Downy  Woodpecker. 

IN    OPEN    WOODS. 

Mourning  Dove. 


L-row. 

Ovenbird. 

Nuthatch. 

Barred  Owl. 

Scarlet  Tanager. 

Sharp-shinned  Hawk. 

Black-throated  Green  Warbler 


FOUND    IN    WOODS. 

Grouse. 


Blue  Jay. 

Wood  Pewee. 

Pine  Warbler. 

Whip-poor-will. 

Black  and  White  Creeper. 


♦  Found  also  ir  wood's. 


PiiP 


208 


Bobolink. 
Bay-winged  Bunting. 


APPENDIX. 


FOUND    IN    MEADOWS. 


Meadowlark. 
Savanna  Sparrow. 


FOUND   IN    BUSHV    PASTURES. 


Chewink. 
Brown  Thrasher. 
Night  Hawk. 
Chestnut-sided  Warbler. 


Quail. 

Indigo  Bird. 
Field  Sparrow. 


FOUND    IN    SWAMPY    PI.ACKS. 


Veery. 
Wood  Duck. 
Marsh  Hawk. 
Red-winged  Blackbird. 


Bittern. 
Green  Heron. 
Swamp  Sparrow. 
Maryland  Yellow-throat. 


Kingfisher. 
Spotted  Sandpiper, 


FOUND    ON    RIVER   OR    LAKE    SHORES. 

Bank  Swallow. 


FOUND  SOUTH  AND  WEST  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 


Cardinal  Grosbeak. 
Carolina  Wren. 


Red-headed  Woodpecker. 
Turkey  Buzzard. 


'luli 


APPENDIX. 


COMMON  WINTER  BIRDS  OF  NEW  ENGLAND. 


209 


Grouse. 

Kinglet. 

Chickadee. 

Screech  Owl. 

Go'.dfinch. 

Tree  Sparrow. 

Red-shouldered  Hawk. 


Crow. 
Blue  Jay. 
Nuthatch. 
Butcher  Bird. 
Purple  Finch. 
Brown  Creeper, 
Downy  Woodpecker. 


IN    SOUTHERN  NEW    ENGLAND,    ESPECULLV    NEAR   THE   SEA. 

Robin.  Flicker, 

S"°*bird.  Song  Sparrow. 

Meadow  Lark. 


Redpoll. 
Snowflake, 
Red  Crossbill, 


OCCASIO^AL    WINTER    VISITORS, 

Cedar  Bird. 
Snowy  Owl. 
Pine  Grosbeak. 


It 


m 


\ 


2IO 


A/TEND/X. 


BIRDS    IN    WHICH    THK    I'WO   SEXKS    ARE   ALIKE. 


Gull. 

Blue  Jay. 

Screech  Owl. 

Heron. 

Song  Sparrow. 

Kingbird. 

Crow. 

Chipping  Sparrow. 

Meadow  Lark. 

Phcbbe. 

Bank  Swallow 

Red-eyed  Vireo. 

Cuckoo. 

Ovenbird. 

Brown  Thrasher 

Catbird. 

House  Wren. 

Nuthatch. 

Swift. 

Chickadee. 

Brown  Creeper. 

Grouse. 

Cedar  Bird. 

Wood  Thrush. 

Sandpiper. 

BIRDS    IN   WHICH    THE   TWO   SEXES   ARE    MARKEDLY    UNLIKE. 


Oriole. 
Chewink. 
Cowbird. 
Tanager. 
Purple  Finch. 


Bobolink. 
Bluebird. 
Goldfinch. 
Indigo  Bird. 
Redstart. 


Humming  Bird. 
Barn  Swallow. 
Red-winged  Blackbird. 
R  ;se-breasted  Grosbeak. 


BIRDS    IN    WHICH    THE  TWO    SEXES   ARE  SIMILAR,    BUT 
DISTINGUISHABLE. 


Quail. 
Hawks. 
Yellow  Warbler. 


Flicker. 
Kingfisher. 


Crow  Blackbird. 
Downy  Woodpecker. 


SOME    BRILLIANT   MALES    WHO    CHANGE    INTO    PLAIN    CLOTHES 

IN    THE    FALL. 

Bobolink.  Goldfinch.  Tanager.  Indigo  Bird. 


APPENDIX. 


211 


BIRDS    ACCUSED   OF    DOING    HARM    IN    FARM    OR    GARDEN. 

These   birds  are  still  on    trial.      Perhaps   you   can  form  an 

opinion  about  some  of  them  from  what  you  have  read. 
Large  Hawks.  Bobolink. 

Screech  Owl.  Catbird. 

Sapsucker.  Cedar  Bird. 

Kingbird.  Butcher  Bird. 

J*y-  Crow  Blackbird. 

^'■°*-  Red-winged  Blackbird, 

^o^'"-  English  Sparrow. 

BIRDS    UNDOUBTEDLY    INJURIOUS. 

Cooper's  Hawk.  Sharp-shinned  Hawk. 

BIRDS    UNIVERSALLY   CONSIDERED    BENEFICIAL    TO    MAN. 


Name  of  Bird. 

Phoebe. 

Oriole. 

Cuckoo. 

Kinglet. 

Chickadee. 

Brown  Creeper. 

Flicker. 

Bluebird. 

Nuthatch. 

Swallows. 

Warblers. 

Red-eyed  Vireo. 

Meadow  Lark. 

Chipping  Sparrow. 

Rose-breasted  Grosbeak 

Downy  Woodpecker. 


Enemy  Destroyed. 

Gnats. 

Beetles. 

Tent  Caterpillars. 

Insects'  Eggs. 

Insects'  Eggs. 

Insects'  Eggs. 

Ants. 

Grubs. 

Grubs. 

Flies. 

Caterpillars. 

Caterpillars. 

Grasshoppers. 

Currant  Worms. 

Potato  Bugs. 

Borers. 


IN  DHX. 


Albatross,  145-149,  177. 
Audubon,  98. 

Bills,  27,  28,  41,  79,  100.  102,  195-197. 

Bird  Language,  190-192. 

Bird  Music,  193,  194. 

Bittern,  193,  194. 

Bluebird,  15-17,  168. 

Blue  Jay,  56,  57,  164. 

Bobolink,  1 17-120. 

Bob  White,  95-97- 

Brown  Creeper,  26,  27. 

Brown  Thrush,  184,  185. 

Burrowing  Owl,  35,  80. 

Cardinal,  197. 

Caro'ii.d  Wren,  135. 

Catbird,  75-78. 

Cedar  Bird,  37-39.  «S7- 

Cherry  Bird,  38. 

Chickadee,  26,  27,  32,  141,  163. 

Chimney  Swift,  93,  94,  173,  rg7. 

Chipping  Sparrow,  52,  53,  60. 

Cowbird,  14,  123-125. 

Crossbill,  121,  122,  197. 

Crow,  101. 

Diagram  of  bird,  17. 

Dove,  177. 

Downy  Woodpecker,  26,  41-43,  45. 

Duck's  Bill,  196. 

Duck's  Foot,  91. 


Kagle,  140. 

•'•ggs.  SQ-'Jz- 

Knemies,  Birds',  162-168. 

Knglish  Sparrow,  24,  25,  50 

Families,  1 69-171. 
Feathers,  103-105,  172-178. 
Fish  Hawk,  80,  92,  140. 
Flamingo,  195,  196. 
Flicker,  44-46,93,  175. 
Flight,  178,  179. 
Food,  26-28,  I0O-I02. 

Golden-winged  Woodpecker,  44. 

Goldfinch,  i,  2. 

Grebe,  12S,  129. 

Grouse,  21-23,93,  145-147.  »74.   '96- 

Gull  Dick,  29,  30. 

Gypsy  Birds,  121,  122. 

Hawks,  186-189. 

Heron,  180. 

House  Wren,  68-72. 

Humming  Bird,  105,  151-154. 

Indigo  Bird,  19,  20. 

Islands,  142,  143. 

Ivo'-  hilled  Woodpecker,  46. 

Junco,  137. 

Kingbird,  63-661 
Kinglet,  26. 


IXDKX. 


.21 


Marsh  Wren,  71,  72. 
Migration,  18,  98,  115,  131-134, 

Nest  of 

Bobolink,  130. 

Chipping  Sparrow,  52. 

Eave  Swallow,  80. 

(ioldfinch,  2. 

Humming  Bird,  82,  154. 

Kingbird,  65. 

Oriole,  81. 

Osprey,  80. 

Phcebe,  4. 

Robin,  8. 

Song  Sparrow,  52. 

Tailor  Bird,  83. 

Woodpecker,  42. 

Wren,  68,  70,  72. 

Yellowbird,  14. 

Yellow-throated  Vireo,  106. 
Nests,  S9-6i,  79-83,  166,  167. 
Night  in  Bird  World,  54,  55. 
Nuthatch,  26,  197. 

Oriole,  11,  12,  81,  82. 
Osprey,  79,  80,  140. 
Ostrich,  92,  127,  178. 
Ovenbird,  23,  146,  147,  155. 
Owls,  31-35. 

Burrowing,  35. 

Screech,  34. 

Snowy,  35. 

Passports,  Bird,  11 3-1 16. 
Petition,  Song  Birds',  158-161. 
Phoebe,  3-5,  98. 

Quail,  95-97. 


Redstart,  112,  124,  125,  150. 
146.         Red-winged  Blackbird,  89,  90,  197. 
Robin,  6-10,  164. 
Robin  "  roosts,"  9. 
Rose-breasted  Grosbeak,  1 54. 
Ruff,  126,  127. 

Sapsucker,  47,  48. 
Scarlet  Tanager,  36. 
Screech  Owl,  34. 
Snowbird,  176. 
Snowy  Egret,  180-182. 
Snowy  Owl,  35. 
SoTig  Sparrow,  51,  52,  82,  92. 
Sparrows,  24,  49-53,  175. 

Chipping,  52,  53,  60. 

English,  24,  25,  50.  ■ 

Song,  51,  52. 

Tree,  27,  135-137. 
Summer  Warbler,  13,  14. 
Summer  Yellowbird,  13,  14. 
Swallows,  68,  84-88. 

Bam,  86-88,  99,  174,  177. 

Eave,  80. 

White-bellied,  68. 

Taiior  Bird,  83. 
Thistlebird,  i. 
Toes,  91-94. 
Tongue  of 

Humming  Bird,  102. 

Woodpecker,  43,  102. 
Toucan,  28. 
Tree  Sparrow,  27,  135,  137. 

Vireos,  124. 

Red-eyed,  106. 
Yellow-throated,  106-112. 


.V-. 


^ 


214 


JNDEX. 


Warblers,  67. 

WinRs,  49'  9' •  '03>  •7<J. 

W  inter.  Hircl  World  in.     ij  IJQ 

Wo.jd  Duck,  \y 

Woodpeckers,  40-48,  194,  197. 

Uowny,  26,  41-43.  45. 

Flicker,  44-46. 

f  i>>Iden-winKe»l,  44. 

Ivory  billed,  4^' 

Kttlheaded,  W.. 


W<i<idpecker         <ntinued. 
Yellow  bellied,  47,  4S. 
Wood  Thrush.  183. 

Y«  iov    scllitrd  Woodpecker,  47. 
\  ellow-throateii  Vireo,  \    (>-\\2. 
Ydk'W-winged  Woodpei  <er,  47,  4S. 
Youiig  111  lis,  61 

ow  ted.  46,  fJO- 


